Shuffling Contingency
by Burning Touch
Summary: Several circumstances that were never or rarely explored by Rogue and Remy. And for that matter anyone else. They do tend to range all over the place in all aspects. Depiction XII: RR II - When I Grow Up.
1. Roadblocks In Relationships

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the X-men. I am not an associate of Marvel. Think of them as a sandbox, sure they let me play in there once in awhile but their sandcastles will always look a hell of a lot better than mine. And ultimately, they have the power to smash my castle whether I like it or not.

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**Shuffling Contingency**_**: Roadblocks In Relationships**  
_

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It turns out that Anna's father had lied to her for her whole life, all thirteen years of it.

Her mother wasn't dead.

In fact, she was very much so alive and quite near. She lived in New Orleans for the years of Anna's life. She didn't die in a fatal car crash on her way home one night. No, she had taken that car and run off from Anna's father, Owen. And to top it off, she had even wanted to take Anna with her.

Owen wouldn't have it. He had winged a friend of his, a judge, into giving him complete custody. To top it off, there was a court order that Priscilla could not come within five hundred feet of her baby girl. So instead Anna had been stuck with her father, who had become an alcoholic at his wife's desertion and her aunt, Carrie, who was a strong believer in the old disciplinary ways.

The day that a beautiful blonde haired woman showed up on their doorstep was the best day of Anna's life.

Not only had she found out she had a mother, but she found out that she would be getting away from her unsatisfactory home life. Not to mention out of Caldecott County. She liked the small southern town, but at times it was a little trying. Like the fact that the town always turned against her whenever she had attempted to run away. Sure, sweet little Anna had problems, lets all ban together to return her to her loving father and aunt.

Needless to say they had all been a little oblivious.

Though recently she had been preparing for another break, and this time it would have worked. She had discovered that she was special. She could render someone unconscious with a touch. But it had come to a large price to discover this. The first boy she kissed was left comatose.

Doctors couldn't find any marks upon him and chalked it up to a cerebral aneurysm, even though the even was extremely rare and he had displayed no symptoms previously to indicate it. Anna knew the truth though. She had seen first hand the way his skin had been lined with dark veins. And then she had seen things that only Cody would have seen and known things that only _he_ knew. It was terrifying and yet opened up numerous doors of possibilities to her.

Such as the next time she was 'caught' in a running attempt she could leave a nice body trail. Eventually there would be no one left to come get her before she was far enough away to stay gone. That had changed when her mother arrived on their doorstep. It was luck really, because Anna planned to leave in a few days.

"You're beautiful," she had whispered in a honeyed southern tone. She was exactly what she imagined her mother to be like, even better really.

Her mother had informed Owen that she would be taking Anna back with her to New Orleans to live with her new husband and his family and that there was nothing he could no about it. He tried too. Not that he cared terribly for Anna, it's just he wanted to hurt Priscilla in the only way he could, by keeping her child from her. Apparently, as luck would have it, Priscilla's new husband was extremely influential and even the judge could do nothing about it.

So Anna was off to New Orleans.

She had always wanted to visit there; it was a dream come true. Granted it was extremely awkward between her mother and herself at first. But they worked through that to a point of comfort. Really ice cream was the food of bonding after years of non-communication. They even loved the same flavor. Definitely related.

Anna had underestimated her mother's new husband though. Sure, she knew he was influential, but she didn't expect him to live in a mansion. Somehow she thought a quaint two story house with one or two other siblings would suffice. Instead, she found herself immersed in a gigantic family all crammed within the confides of that monstrosity. It was bliss.

Jean-Luc was a total gentleman. Having lost his wife years previously, he had never expected to remarry but had met Priscilla, who had lived in the city for a great amount of time by that point, and the two had hit it off. It was somewhere around that time that her mother had finally spilled the beans about why she hadn't already been married off and having children. Apparently a few boxes of tissues had been used after that simply inquiry. Not to mention a hit from the resident motherly figure, Tante Mattie.

Already, Anna loved the stocky woman. She was the right combination of strict and tenderness that everyone should have in them. She would teach you how to do something just as easily as scowl at you for not doing it correctly. Not to mention she kept the numerous hordes of LeBeau boys away from Anna enough so that she could breath. Honestly, the amount of males in that house was stifling. Anna was sure she'd grow to enjoy it, but she needed time to adjust.

Of course, meeting Henri's girlfriend Mercy helped out tremendously. At least she knew there would be a girl around for a majority of the time. And that all the boys acted the same around Mercy, albeit a little reserved since she was already taken for. Plus, they knew the girl didn't resist hitting any of them.

It was after one of Mattie's encouragement of the males away from her that Anna ran into, who would become, her favorite LeBeau.

Literally.

Still not grasping the location of everything in the vast house, she had taken to exploring a little bit ever day, to make sure she knew where it all was. Problem was that she seemed to get lost more often than not. Most times she would walk down a hallway muttering under her breath directions to find her way backwards. She even considered string once, but that left too many opportunities for the boys to mess with her.

Rounding the corner, she had her head down to look at the carpet pattern below her feet. With that being the case, she didn't see a person in front of her until it was too late, if at all. The force of the collision sent them both reeling and ending up on the floor together. Two hands were locked around her upper arms to ensure that she didn't get hurt, but as a by product, made it sure that she was lying on the stranger's chest.

Looking up she noticed unusual red on black eyes staring at her in confusion. It was then that she looked at the rest of the face to see a very handsome, very masculine face. He seemed to be a few years older than her. No more than two she would wager. She realized the compromising situation she was in. Placing her hands on his chest, she applied pressure to show that she wanted to get up; his hands willingly allowed her that action, although they did linger.

Sitting back on her haunches, she blushed and looked at her lap, shyly placing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Ah'm sorry. Ah wasn't paying attention to where Ah was going."

The boy lifted himself up to a sitting position and grinned at her. It was more of a smirk really. "S'no problem _chére_."

There was a silence between the two of them while they both snuck glances at one another. Well, in truth Anna was the only one sneaking. The boy was blatantly obvious about his gaze and interest. Biting her lip slightly, Anna twisted her hands trying to think of what to do next.

Reaching a conclusion, she looked up and smiled, holding out her hand. "Hi. Ah'm Anna."

He grasped her gloved hand and placed a kiss on it. "De name's Remy. Pleased t' meet y' Anna."

"Likewise," she uttered somewhat breathlessly. Was it right for this to be happening to her? Sure, she felt something like this before Cody was about to kiss her, but this wasn't anywhere near that. She had only just knocked into Remy.

"Remy's not seen y' around here before. Don't tell 'im a _fille_ as _belle_ as y' is here to see one of his cousins," Remy seemed almost unhappy at the possibility of that being the case, though he hid it well behind a playful grin.

She blushed again, despite not wanting too. "No, Ah wouldn't visit them on purpose, _yet_. Ah'm still adjusted. My momma just got married, so she brought me here to live with them."

"Well, dat's a relief at least," Remy smirked after seeing her blush again. "Remy didn't want t' have t' steal another girl from his cousins."

"And what makes ya think Ah can be stolen?"

He smirked again. "_Chére_, y' haven't released m' hand yet. Dere's obviously something between us. We're already halfway dere dis way."

"Ah beg your pardon Mister…Mister… What's your last name?"

"LeBeau."

"Of course it is," Almost everyone in this house's surname was LeBeau. Herself included now it seems. "Well, Mister LeBeau, Ah will have you know that Ah am not that easily won. And as for my hand, you haven't released it either."

"Dat's obvious, Anna. Remy don't want to," somehow his smirk made his whole demeanor seem more carefree. It suited him, even though she wanted to wipe it off of his face, preferably with a punch. She could easily grow to love and hate that lopsided expression.

Exasperated, she threw her remaining hand in the air with a frustrated sigh. Seeing the boy across from her grin once more she flung herself backwards unto the carpeted ground. She hoped that maybe he wouldn't see how her face had flushed with his comment. He probably had though. It occurred to her then that they were sitting in the middle of the hallway, holding hands and she barely knew him.

That was positively mortifying, and thrilling at the same time.

Noticing that Anna wasn't going to say anything else, Remy decided to provide his portion of the conversation. "So, y' said y'r _mere_ just married someone here. Who'd she marry?"

Presently her hand was covering her face, so her answer came out extremely muffled. But Remy could still discern the jist of it. "She got hitched to a guy named Jean-Luc. He seems decent, better than my daddy anyway. What about you? Who ya belong ta?"

When he didn't answer, Anna got a little worried that she had said something she shouldn't have. Maybe Remy's family had bad blood with Jean-Luc? Then she felt his hand go slack against her own. Pushing herself up with the use of her elbows, she stared into a completely foreign boy from the one she had met a few minutes ago.

He was pallid against his tanned skin, unique eyes wide and blinking, several times. His gaze was fixed upon her and unmoving. She waved a hand in front of his face with no results. Instead she squeezed the hand that limply held her own. That seemed to work. It was too bad; she'd had the urge to tweak his nose out of sheer spite.

Remy shook his head and offered a weak smile.

"What is it? Why'd ya go all spacey all of a sudden?" She looked down at her appearance for a moment trying to assess the problem. "Do Ah have somethin' on me? Maybe on my nose? Ah always get dirt in the same spot…"

Running a hand through his hair, Remy grimaced. "_Non_, s'not dat. Well, _chére_, um…Anna. As it turns out Jean-Luc is m' _père_."

Anna laughed. That just couldn't be possible. She had met all of Jean-Luc's family already. "You're joking." Seeing as how Remy's expression didn't change in the least, she started to get worried. "You're joking, right?"

"_Non_, Remy's bein' serious."

"If you're Jean-Luc's son how come Ah haven't met you until now?" There, she had him trapped. He was just pulling her leg. Obviously he was a LeBeau of some sort as all the boys seemed to do that, frequently. Pranksters the lot of them, she thought scathingly. Hopefully it would be a phase they grew out of.

The old grin came back a little. "Remy was off getting a little help wit' his…eccentricities."

"So you were gettin' someone to tutor you in how to speak properly?"

"_Jamais_. Tante already been tryin' dat for years," he smirked, back into a banter with her. Then he looked at her again and his smirk fell. "S' a shame dat we're related now."

"And why's that?" Anna was disappointed to find out Remy was her step brother. She thought Jean-Luc's other son would be more like Henri. She liked Henri; he was more serious than any of the other boys. It prompted her to believe that the others would grow up eventually too. She was however a little suspicious about Remy's statement.

He laughed at her slight defense, especially since it was followed with crossing her one arm across her chest. "Well, Remy t'inks y'r one _belle __fille_ and we could have _très_ fun together if we weren't related."

Anna's eyes widened as she grasped what he was insinuating. She quickly withdrew her gloved hand from his and let it accompany her other, to guard herself. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the auburn haired boy before her. He laughed at her outrage.

She turned her back on him and they sat in a semblance of silence, every once in awhile though, Remy would chuckle or Anna would make an annoyed noise, though neither bothered to leave the other's company. Something kept them drawn to one another. It was just a feeling, but it was enough. Eventually Anna did turn around again, once she believed Remy to have learned his lesson.

"Y' know, Remy's technically adopted," He offered her a look, to which she reciprocated with a glare.

Apparently the boy was not a fast learner.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This is just a little something I need for random collection of one-shots. I'm making this into a series of sorts, except for the fact that none of the installments will be remotely related to each other unless specified. If anyone has a suggestion for one, I'm open to them. I've got quite a few ideas already lined up though incase. 


	2. That Melting Pot

_I gotta say, thanks a bunch for those reviews. They mean a lot. And if you were wondering, I will do other portions with the first one (Roadblocks In Relationships) later on. I have ideas, they just need to ferment a little. Oh, and as a side note, I might 'cheat' a bit and peek into movieverse and comicverse once in awhile. Well, maybe often. But still principally and Evolution basis. And there will be ones from Remy and other's points of views, not always Rogue. So, onwards and on forth. _

_As always these are a series of unrelated and unconnected one-shots. There may be instances where they are linked, but those will be noted clearly. _**  
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**Shuffling Contingency: _That Melting Pot Called High School_**

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She was sitting in the bleachers with her various friends splayed out around her. A physics book weighed heavy against the muscles in her thighs, and even though she was reclined against the seat behind her, her back still ached due to little to no support. Absentmindedly a pen tapped against the scripted pages and her nail was set in the constant position between her teeth. Not chewing, just nibbling.

Her brow creased slightly and a little portion of pink emerged from the corner of her mouth. She was trying to concentrate, but it was lacking. Who in their right mind wanted to learn about Quantum field theory? No one, that's who. She could admit that astrophysics had its high points and seeing, in a manner of speaking, a magnet demonstrating the Meissner effect by hovering over the surface of a high-temperature superconductor with boiling liquid nitrogen was awesome. Still it didn't make up for the subject as a whole.

It didn't help either that every two seconds someone around her vicinity would sigh in longing.

After a particularly loud instance, she was forced to scowl at the aforementioned person. "Some of us are tryin' to concentrate you know."

"Yeah, honestly Kitty, some of us are _concentrating_."

Of course, they all knew that what Tabitha was concentrating on was significantly different from what Rogue was concentrating on. Flicking her eyes up briefly, she noted the exhibition of several bare chests. That was all she needed to know. With a roll of her eyes she returned to her work, occasionally muttering to herself.

"Shit, that was hot," Tabitha murmured as she sat farther forwards on her seat. Her blond haired head was currently resting upon arms that were propped on her knees.

Rogue snorted and sparred a glance to the girl on her right. She was slightly surprised to find her watching along with the others, although she had the air on nonchalance while the others were obviously enthusiastic. "_Y tu Wanda_?"

The red tipped girl only offered a wolfish grin. "I'm not one to pass up a free showing, Roguey."

"Come on, you can't tell us this isn't affecting you at all!" Kitty had not even attempted to set out any of her school supplies. She apparently had planned on such a show to occur. Sometimes that girl could be downright creepy.

Shifting her gaze from her textbook to the field splayed down before them, she saw something she had seen on several occasions, the all boys' competitive gym class, complete with naked torsos. It might have been somewhat thrilling the first few times but she had gradually gotten to know the occupants better and the glitter had fallen away, quickly.

When her friends found out that she spent her free period out here they had followed and found out about the class. No doubt there would be numerous other females out the next day. The only reason she was out here in the first place, besides the relative peace and quiet, was to be near her best friend, who just so happened to be in that very class.

"Kit, Ah know things about those guys that would make you see them in a completely different way."

The computer proficient girl scoffed. "Like whatever. The only way I could 'see them different' is if I had a pair of binoculars."

Everyone laughed and congratulated her on a good idea. They mentally noted the item for the following day. Already they were making plans for a permanent residence on the bleachers that Rogue alone had occupied for so long.

Yep, it was certain. Remy was going to kill her.

They had only been friends for the past three years, but they were fast friends. It was a fateful day that Rogue had seen Remy arrive at a locker just five down from her own. Having not seen him around and knowing how confusing the building could be for someone new, she had offered him assistance and at the time claimed temporary insanity for the gesture. She wasn't particularly known for being quite sociable to people she did not know. He had agreed and history was made.

Bonding occurred over Southern roots, taste in music, films and novels and certain overbearing parents. They both had established friends in both sexes, but the connection between the two of them was sturdy. The two spent every waking moment with each other and were accompanied with keys to the others house. It wasn't uncommon to visit the other's house before their own now a days.

At some point Rogue had mentioned she didn't know where to go for her free period. Remy had then asked if she was allowed to go anywhere on campus. After a tentative affirmation, he had explained that his physical education was scheduled during that time slot. So, if she wanted, she could sit in the bleachers and work and when there was downtime they could hang out.

It was the perfect plan, until her friends found out.

There was no secret that the female population was in awe of the specimen that was Remy LeBeau. From his finely chiseled body, due to several extracurricular sports, to his chin length auburn hair and Cajun accent. The fact that he spoke French fluently just sent most of the girls to swooning.

But to Rogue it was nothing out of the ordinary. Her mother had always stressed taking pride in her body, she she'd been in various sports all her life. She had been more of a tomboy as a child and was well accustomed to handsome men as a result. Several of the 'boys' she had played cops and robbers with as children grew up _very_ nicely. As for the French, being fluent herself, she often could discern what her friend was really saying to the girls. Not to mention a healthy portion of the nation's Southern half could speak agreeable French.

Remy reminded her of home, and she suspected she reminded him likewise.

Now at one point Rogue had admired the sight of the _other_ participants and their shirtless selves. After having met several of them on a more personal level via Remy, she was again to thinking of them as just guys. She was just a tomboy all grown up that sometimes played dress up at heart.

"Rogue, would you ever date Remy?"

That was out of the blue. That was out of the freakin' question too. It would be too awkward. She told them so and surveyed the disbelieving looks they favored her. "What? Ya'll think it would _actually_ work?"

"First of all, _yeah_! And secondly why don't you want to date him?" Kitty asked with little to no tact. Vaguely Rogue wondered why they were all being so forward at this point in time.

"Because it would be awkward between us and most likely ruin our friendship," seeing that this answer was not enough to satisfy the harpies she called friends she tried to think up another reason. "Besides Rems isn't really my type o' guy."

"What, perfect ain't your type?" Tabitha asked sarcastically as she picked at her nails, buffing them on her shirt after finishing with one hand. Her body was angled fully towards Rogue. Looking around, they were all angled with Rogue at the apex.

Rogue offered a secretive smile that spiked the curiosity in every female there as to what she was thinking. "That's just it, he's 'perfect'. And perfect just isn't for me."

Jubilee scoffed. "Oh come on, what's wrong with perfect? He's got a body to die for, an accent that is irresistible and a winning personality."

It truly wasn't Rogue's fault that she snorted at the last portion. Winning personality, you betcha Jubes, she kept that thought to herself though. "Let's get something straight, Ah've seen plenty of guys that look as good as Rems. Ah grew up with people having the same accent as him, and actually Cajun just ain't my flavor if Ah choose one. And personality…we'll not go into that. Ah want someone that's not perfect, perfect is boring."

"So you think Remy is boring?"

"As if!"

"She's crazy. Absolutely bonkers."

"He's not boring per-say just a little too ordinary that's all. Like Ah said, not my type," she shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. But there was something Rogue didn't understand about her relationship with Remy. She was already quite attached to him and vise versa, so there really wasn't the option for a mutual parting of ways. Along with the fact that being around him constantly had dulled his eccentric behaviors in her eyes considerably.

Remy LeBeau might be perfect, but he was never boring.

"_Chére_! Come on, we're goin' t' be late!" He was down at the edge of the bleachers with a towel slung over his shoulders and a water bottle in his hand.

Someone made a comment hoping that he accidentally spilled some water all over himself. Rogue rolled her eyes and gathered her things as quickly as she could. "Bye ladies, enjoy your buffet," she wiggled her fingers in a form of goodbye.

"With pleasure!" They chorused and wiggled their fingers mockingly back at her.

Rogue snorted as she weaved down the bleacher seats. Reaching the railings she vaulted over, her feet meeting solid ground moments afterwards. She grinned up at her friend as he offered her a smirk. He slung an arm around her shoulders as they began to walk off the field.

"Brought along some friends dis time, _hein_?"

"They followed me. Not my fault," she stated as she slung an arm around his waist.

"Maybe dey just can't help de sight of Remy wit' his shirt off," he squeezed her against his side and laughed at her expression.

Glaring at him, she quickly switched to a disgusted face. "That may be so Cajun, but Ah bet they could help the smell of Remy afterwards," she fanned away the invisible aroma from her nose. She never minded taking his ego down a notch or twelve.

"Don't lie _chére_, s'not becoming."

"Neither is your body odor. Did you not shower this morning?"

Remy pushed her away from him and she stumbled as she laughed practically falling over. "Very funny. Y'r gunna pay f'r dat one."

"As if you could catch me," she took off running with Remy in hot pursuit. He eventually caught up to her and snaked an arm around her waist, hoisting her feet off the floor. She laughed and struggled in his hold.

Up on the bleachers her friends watched the exchange with the same expression on their faces. "Yeah, like she's not totally in love with him already," Kitty voiced the thought they all had as they descended the bleachers.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, that was that. I know you saw next to nothing of Remy in this one, and I'm sorry for that. Anyway, they're seniors, met as freshman and I've absolutely no clue why two southerners suddenly came up north. Let's stick it on the overbearing parents as per usual. And comments, questions, suggestions are appreciated. 


	3. Fateful Meeting

_Just a brief note, this one take place in movieverse. I said I would dip into this and 'cheat' a little, and I'm utilizing that. And anyway, it would just be hilarious if this happened. And thank you all for reviewing and reading, it means a lot!_

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**Shuffling Contingency**_**: Fateful Meeting**  
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It was times like these that Rogue tended to thrive.

Granted, were anyone to see her currently her only defense would be to deny like there was no tomorrow. And honestly, she could be grateful that, at present, no one was around to see this particular spectacle. If they had, she would probably blush straight through the floor.

This was something she had started when she still had her powers. Seeing as they prevented her from skin to skin contact and made wearing typical teenage clothes impossible, she had to find little ways to branch out. So, to relax herself she would take certain liberties when the mansion was empty.

Nothing to make a girl feel better about her lecherous curse of a power than a tank top, short shorts and knee socks. All skin liberation and teenage sexuality displayed. But what really made the whole thing amazing was due to the socks.

And of course the hardwood floors were key.

Without those, she would never be able to slide. And it was part of the whole charade, to be dressed like that to be free from her curse and to have fun like that to be free from how she treated the world. To not have to live on edge for a few minutes and let herself go.

Luckily for her, it was another day that most of the mansion residents had taken to a day trip. That being the case, she was allotted time for her favorite activity of relaxation. She had not done this since getting the cure and ridding herself of her powers. She had been on edge since then more than ever though.

This was her chance to let lose. Lining up her shot she narrowed her eyes on her goal. Bracing her legs, she felt the muscles tense as she prepared for what would come next. Taking a deep breath she gave a count before beginning.

Running down the length of the rug her socked feet met the wood and began to glide across it. Her joyful laugh filled the near silent corridor to capacity as she approached the finish line. Her hands branched out to stop her ascend.

Feeling the smooth wood beneath her hands, she could not wait to reach the other side of the corridor again. It was almost like ice skating, except much more suited for a Southerner like herself. Bobby, even Kitty were more accustomed to cold that came with ice skating.

What made the whole thing more pleasant was being able to turn up her choice of music and glide across the floor. Well, she did not glide the whole time; she performed other various acts of idiocy. In other circles it could be called gymnastics but due to Logan's influence it was viewed as nonsense.

She supposed if someone was to walk through the large house they would find a strange sight. Mainly, herself doing random cartwheels through the hallways with an uncharacteristic smile on her face, or grooving without having her feet actually leaving the floor. Not to mention her sliding down the foyer.

Once again, she thanked some higher power for educational field trips. And that her mother forced her to take those acting classes when she was younger. A little time spent in front of a fan, a little water with some miserable face expressions and she looked like she was about to keel over.

Laughing she slid down the banister to get down towards the foyer. "No Ms. Munroe Ah don't think Ah can come," she mimicked herself with a pitiful little cough, over exaggerating her gesticulations. "Have Ah seen Logan? Well now that you mention it, Ah haven't seen him all morning."

The two of them had quickly made a pact with one another for the day. He would be gone before the others were up so he couldn't tell the others Rogue was faking. In return she wouldn't tell them that she knew exactly where Logan was and what he was doing. This similar routine had worked several times in the past.

Another cartwheel and she was at the beginning of the ornate rug once more. Of course, it didn't look quite as nice as it could have, dozens of children's feet could do that to a pretty runner. Picking up the remote, she leaned into the room directly to her right and clicked the volume up a little more. Smiling she set down device on the table and looked at her goal.

Sprinting she took off from the edge of the rug, feeling her feet go down a few centimeters when she left the opposite edge. She laughed again, doing a small turn while she slid. Her hands were already extended when she noticed the door move. It was opening and someone stood in the doorway.

There wasn't time enough for her to stop without hitting the figure there in some way. "Watch out!" she shouted as she came closer, her eyes squinted closed in preparation for the impact. She hit something quite solid and felt a hand around one of her biceps, while her hands unconsciously clutched at this person's clothes, trying to steady her body.

Unraveling herself from the person, or at least her hands, she looked up into a young man's face, an incredibly handsome young man's face. Gazing back down at the leather trench she had been previously clutching she tried to smooth out the little imperfections her hands had caused, if only to not look at his face again.

"Ah'm sorry. Ah didn't realize you were there until it was too late," she admitted with a sheepish smile on her face. She was trying like mad to keep any sort of blush from her features, especially since he had yet to release her.

"S' no problem, never minded _filles_ crashin' into me, 'specially de _belle _ones."

He was southern, that much she could tell. Not Mississippi for sure but no anything northern of that. She would have to peg him for Louisiana, a Big Easy Cajun. But here she was thinking about his dialect when she was still held within the arms of an extremely attractive individual.

She wanted to say something witty, something to make him laugh but to show she was smart. Think of some way to not turn into an absolute girl and give into her urge to melt into a puddle then giggle uncontrollably.

"We haven't been properly introduced," she managed to get out after a few moments. And afterwards she wanted nothing more than to bang her head against a wall.

He smiled down at her. The hand on her bicep slid slowly down her arm, making it tingle wildly. When it finally found her own small hand he brought it up to his lips and left a lingering kiss on the area just below her knuckles. "Call me Remy."

And she was blushing now.

"Rogue," she breathed still trying to catch her breath. "It's a—pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise."

He hadn't released her hand, and she didn't really want him to. It didn't even seem to matter to her that her music was still blasting in the background or that she stood before him in next to nothing. Suddenly she was glad she stayed at the mansion that day just so she had the chance to crash into the lovely stranger who opened the door. Opened the door at just the right moment, wait…

"How'd you get in here?"

The thought had just occurred to her. She had locked the door, personally made sure it was secure and that all personal were vacated from the premises before beginning. Simply because she didn't want what had just happened to happen. Not that she minded this, but she didn't need someone from the mansion walking right in unannounced to her.

Remy grinned; it was a very roguish smile. And worse than the fact that it made her knees feel a little weak, it sent shivers through her body and raised the skin on her arms in an egg carton resemblance. "De door."

Clearly not impressed with his answer, she cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow.

"I've got a key," he stated as if it solved all the matters in the world. He made a brief face before deciding to continue. "Stormy said de next time I visit I had better use de door or she'll use _me_ f' target practice."

She blinked, looking at him in a whole new light. Several thoughts were flitting through her head at the moment but only one succeeded in being vocalized. "You know Ms. Munroe?" Again, she wanted to find a nice wall to band her head against.

He just looked amused with her antics. "_Oui_."

"Well then c'mon in. Or, maybe Ah should call and check first," She bit the flesh of her lower lip, pulling it taut. Her eyes flicked to the opposite corners of the room and behind her to where the phone lay, sitting in its plastic cradle.

"_Chére_, if y' hadn't noticed m' already inside," he pointed out with a bemused smile. He watched as she leaned around him to look at the stretch beyond the door opening, and then at the area right in front of the threshold.

"Oh. Would it be too much to ask you to go back outside so I could call her to confirm this?" Rogue looked towards him and watched as he nodded in response. All this produced was an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah well, Ah guess Ah would have to explain how you got in."

"_Pourquoi_?"

She coughed and rubbed the back of her head nervously with one hand. Her gaze drifted around the room, finally settling on her socks. Or rather, their collective feet. "Ah'm supposed to be a little under the weather at the moment."

He seemed to understand almost immediately. He offered her a sympathetic look before finally offering assistance to what he was thinking. "Science Museum?"

"Worse, Historical Exhibit," her eyes met his again and she smiled slightly, glad to have someone of like mind in this matter. Somehow all of her friends seemed to enjoy going to those types of things. Of course, they were rather abnormal as far as standards went.

"No wonder you faked," Remy had steadily moved them away from the door's entrance, making it possible to close the door at long last. He didn't let go of her hand though, neither did he show any inclination to do so.

"Well, there are other reasons," She was fidgeting slightly, fingering the hem of her tank.

"And what're dey?"

Suddenly, Rogue grinned. She offered him a questioning look, making it clear she thought him incompetent, if only for the moment. "You didn't figure it out from the way we met?"

He laughed, and she found she liked the sound. He had walked down the hallway a bit farther with her before he finally released her hand. She found she missed the warmth. "Y' know you'd get more feet in de sub-basement."

Her eyes widened and then she beamed up at him. He didn't think her childish or crazed for her activity of choice. In fact, he sounded quite interested. "Wanna race?" she suggested, hoping to that previous higher power he would accept.

"Already ahead of you," he said boots in his hands with miraculous speed. She hadn't noticed them leave his feet. He set off down the hallway, coat tails flapping an insult in her face. She found herself laughing as she ran full tilt towards the elevator. It seemed she had found a partner in crime.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** This is how the untouchable hang loose, and greet new students. And because it's the action itself is uncharacteristically entertaining with ample surface and a good pair of socks. And I know, not too much of Remy here, but I promise the next one will have either lots of Romy or lots of Remy. It's a win win situation that way. 


	4. Blue & Green Eyes

_That you all so far for the reviews and reading these little ditties! Just so you know, we're back in the Evolution time stream for this one. _

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**Shuffling Contingency: _Blue-Green Eyes_**

---

She opened her eyes, flashing blue-green before settling on green. They landed on his form and the contempt held within them was something he was not used to seeing. "She doesn't love you."

He stared back, with an expressionless face. "You're lying."

She laughed; it was hollow, veined with lunacy. "What do I have to gain from lying? No, I'm telling the truth, it's more than she affords you," she pushed herself higher on the sterilized sheets, stretching unused muscles.

"How 'bout losing somet'ing dat she gives a damn 'bout?"

"And what makes you think she cares about you? You're a low born thief, too far down for Miss High and Mighty here. She loathes you and everything you represent," her voice was cold and full of mirth at the thought of hurting either one of them, or to just hurt someone.

"Den s' a good t'ing I moved to de ranks of hero, _non_?" He smirked when he saw her scowl. He stood from the seated position he had held for the past three days. "C'mon we've got to stretch des muscles. Henri's orders."

She sneered, the action marring usually beautiful facial features. "You think I care about what McCoy wants or doesn't want? He's a traitor. As far as I'm concerned these muscles can rot."

"And den you'd die," he pointed out his hands smoothing over the polished metal that lined the bedside. It was cool underneath his fingers and entirely blemish free. Adamantium quality was tenfold that of anything else with the added bonus of durability.

"So what's the problem with that? She'd die with me, everyone's happy then."

"Except w'at good is revenge if y' die in de process?" he would know, he had sought revenge on many a person making sure he alone was safe and secure. The satisfaction dwindled considerably when one had to sacrifice themselves to achieve their means to an end.

"There's the contentment of knowing they will _never_ ruin another person's life again," she said almost smugly, thinking she got the betterment of him for once.

He drew back the sheets that shielded her pale skin. She hissed at him, but it had no effect. "If y' hadn't noticed, she hasn't 'ruined' anyone's life in quite awhile. In fact, de _fille's_ tryin' to atone for her past indiscretions."

She scoffed. "And that makes them acceptable how?"

"Never said dat, just said dat she's tryin, not wallowing in her own little pity party like some other _femmes_ are," he offered her a pointed stare making the intention of his statement obvious.

His hand was outstretched, bare of its usual leather adornments. He waited patiently while she detangled her limbs from the confining sheets. But she ignored his hand, instead hopping over the guard rail and getting to work the kinks from her back. She found out that it was hard to scowl while relief flooded through her every pore.

Remy just smirked.

And for once, Carol was finding she agreed with Rogue in wanting to wipe the expression from his face. "So do I get clothes for this exercise or have we turned into a nudist community?"

"Dere over in de closet."

She pulled out a simple set of jeans and a shirt. No gloves, no sleeves, because there was no need. She gazed over her shoulder at the man still in the room, watching her. "Turn around pervert."

He made a face before turning and muttering, "Dat's insulting."

"My heart aches for you," she returned, while pulling the cotton over her head. When she closed the doors, she could tell he had already turned around.

He smirked before offering her a bent arm. "Don't y' just look_ marvelous_."

Eyes flashed to blue so fast no one would have caught it except him as they narrowed. "Asshole," she walked past him blatantly ignoring the proffered arm. She was drawn backwards when she felt his arm slip through one of her own, and hold on tight.

They set down the hallway, his muscles tense to keep her in the position nearest him. Luckily, they encountered no one on their way to the upper levels. Which was just as well, as Carol wasn't feeling particularly sociable. Not that she ever was.

Hank was waiting patiently outside the elevator when they stepped off. He gave them a gentle smile and a friendly wave. "Remy, Ms. Danvers, good afternoon."

"Henri, s' good to see y'," Remy replied with a genuine inflection in his voice. His gaze gradually drifted over to the woman currently on his arm, waiting for her to say something.

"Traitor," she muttered with as much bile as she could produce, accompanied with a glare.

"Don't keep her out to long Remy, I don't want her to get too much activity so soon," Hank instructed, ignoring the discussed brief comment, which was common practice. He hardly looked at her even, although when he did, there was a slight pained expression in his eyes.

"No worries, she'll be back under your care in no time."

"Puh-lease! I'm invulnerable, I won't get worn out," she intoned, certifiably miffed about being seemingly ignored. They treated her like a child, worse than a child. They treated her like it was really_ her_. They treated her like they cared. She knew they didn't.

An exchange of pleasant goodbyes later and they were out on the expansive lawns of the estate. The sun was out, shining down on nearly half the population of the large building. They were engaged in various matches of sports, reading and other odd leisure activities.

But walking down the winding central path, Carol could notice a difference when they passed, when _she_ passed.

Most of them tried to be discreet, but they were miserable at it. They stared, rather openly at the couple that sauntered lazily down the path. Faintly, she could here whispers among their traitorous mouths. That thought in mind, she flared blue, eyes narrowed.

She was satisfied to notice that several students shrunk back from her gaze now. A malicious smirk flitted across her face, they should fear her. They would get their due for being traitors. Her brief, silent, reign of terror was interrupted by a decisive elbow to her ribs.

"Stop dat," he demanded, looking down at her with those disconcerting demon eyes. She had tried that once, calling him a demon with mixed results. He'd been momentarily stung, but then worked relentlessly to annoy her to death. "T'ought I told y' to be nice."

"I am being nice," she stated defiantly. She was being a model citizen, everyone still had their heads on their right bodies and no one had been dropped from several hundred feet in the air. So far, so good in her books.

He simply made a noise of disbelief but kept her to walking. This time, whenever he caught her glaring he would poke her in the ribs to the point of annoyance. Finally, sensing she was not going to behave much longer, he turned to walk across the grass to a somewhat secluded spot.

Remy sat down on a bench, far enough from everyone else that any conversation between them wouldn't be overheard. He left plenty of space on the bench, with one arm casually slung across the back for comfort. She sat down as far away from him as the bench permitted, neither talked.

"You know, I've been thinking," Carol began as she looked over at the man on the bench next to her. He had his eyes closed, so he couldn't see her scuttle a little closer on the wooden surface.

"Did it hurt?"

She ignored him, continually inching closer. "I've been thinking that things don't have to be so horrible between the two of us." She noticed how his eyes opened slightly, while his head tilted in her direction, encouraging her to continue. "Well, I admire how devoted you are to _her,_ even sticking near her shell when it's me in here."

He rolled his eyes. "M' supposed to be honored right?"

"Not quite," she smirked, moving ever closer until she was right next to him. "I've noticed that there are differences between _her_ and me. For one, I've got no hindrances," to prove her point, a pale hand reached to caress the stubble that had gathered over his chin.

His hand caught her's before it reached his chin, quickly dropping it. "Dere's quite a few more differences _p'tit_," he growled without looking at her.

"All I'm saying is, no one would blame you if you did something while it was me. I'd even let little Roguey watch. No need to waste your life," she cooed batting eyes that had turned bluer towards him.

"No t'anks."

"Oh, c'mon! I know you want her, so why not get it over with and realize that's all you ever wanted. You get a little fun, she gets a little fun, and I get a little fun. We're all happy," she smiled brilliantly, revealing rows of pearly white teeth.

He abruptly stood up off the bench, "I said, no t'anks," before beginning to walk back towards the institute.

Carol made a face, seething, before flying after him and putting a little strength into the grip she now had on his arm. "You can't tell me you haven't wanted this! I'm giving you the perfect opportunity!"

"Perfect opportunity for what? T' take advantage o' her? T' do somet'ing she's not ready for? If I do somet'ing, it'll be with Rogue and it'll be because she wants to," he wasn't looking towards her, but facing forwards. The muscles in his back were tensed waiting for her grip to relent.

She grinned, her eyes a steely blue and her smile devious. "Really, what are the chances that _ickle__ Rogueums_ is going to get control of her powers? You should just take what you can get."

Remy turned around; grabbing hold of her arm he swept her feet from under her and slammed her to the ground. Kneeling, his hand went around her throat, while he looked into her rounded blue eyes. In return the red in his eyes was throwing off little sparks across the iris. "Dere's somet'ing dat y' and her mother need to understand. I love Rogue, and only Rogue. Dat's not changin'. M' not looking for look-a-likes or compensations, no matter how similar dey appear."

"She doesn't love you." Her voice was quiet and small with a tinge of defeat. Her eyes were losing their blue, as her shoulders started to slump. He found himself doing somewhat of a similar position as he backed away from her.

"I know _p'tit_."

She stood up and stared down at him. "I want to go back now," she whispered, looking at her feet instead of him now, knowing he would look up at her again. "I don't like it out here."

Silently, he had to agree that the excursion had turned sour. He lifted himself form the ground and took hold of one of the hands she had listlessly at her sides. Her grip was loose against his own. She seemed childlike in her actions after that as they walked back to the medical bay.

It had become a fact that whenever Carol would succeed in taking dominance of Rogue's body, she thought of only one thing: revenge. She felt slighted over the fact that no one had tried to free her from Rogue, to stop Rogue or to even punish her for the crime. In her mind, they were all traitors for siding with Rogue. As a result she fed on her host's knowledge and said whatever she could that would instill the most pain within her victim. Only Remy could take the brunt.

Only Remy could bring back Rogue.

But slowly, it was killing him, ripping apart piece by piece the walls around the doubts in his heart. Because even if Carol was lying, there was a ring of truth to everything she said. And he told himself that it didn't matter, because Rogue would make everything better when she came back. At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Because he couldn't admit that he believed anything else.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've had this one written and on the back burner for awhile, adding little things here and there. I think it should have ended after the "I know," comment. But the scant words at the end wanted to be written badly. Anyway, this is the Remy I promised, (heh, I tricked you didn't I?) and the next one is planning to be more Romy-esque. Leave a little note if the mood strikes you. 


	5. Just Another Lazy Saturday

_Thanks again for the reviews, and I hope everyone has (and continues to have) a good holiday season.  
_

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**Shuffling Contingency**_**: Just Another Lazy Saturday**  
_

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It was one of those lazy Saturdays in Westchester. The one in which several of the town's teenage population spent their time at the only attraction within a five mile radius, the mall. It was a melting pot of pop culture, down to the clothing and music. If you were looking for something it would be guaranteed to be somewhere in the mall. 

Somehow the sheer number of youth present never seemed to impart on the establishment. In fact, the financial positions most were in left little excess to be spent on frivolous endeavors. With that in mind, it caused most to loiter around a particular store, staring longingly at something frivolous they would love to acquire but cannot. It was either that or simply walk a few thousand circuits of the interior. It was probably that factor that helped to contribute to the health of Westchester's adolescence.

Of course, the coveted period of time was when one no longer had to rely on their parental figure to chauffeur them places. Granted the teen in question would need a vehicle to then drive when afforded a license that was rare. Most often it turned out that they took the family four door cruiser instead of anything with a paint job more recent than five years.

That wasn't Remy's problem.

He could already drive, albeit some might harp upon the manner by which he drove but he could still drive. He even went so far as to escape the horrid candy apple with matching stripes down its length. No, he stuck with what he knew and loved best, bikes. It was often remarked upon in his family that his bike was the only woman consistent in his life. And really, it wasn't his fault he was popular.

But even with the profound knowledge that he had obtained a permanent ride to anywhere that took his fancy, he still got stuck in the awkward situation of going to the mall with his family. The worst of it was that they weren't even supposed to be near him in this town. He had only just come to the small suburban town two weeks ago.

He had left the only home he had ever known to take a break. It was a break from his family, a break from the people that had surrounded him and just for the chance to travel. He would never need a break from the city of New Orleans itself. That place was like morphine and he was hopelessly addicted.

Except now he was standing in a mall, waiting for his family to show.

Remy brought the shades atop his nose down further to survey the swarm within the crowded area. There was nothing unusual about the people gathered here, and perhaps that was what intrigued him the most about it. His eyes swept past the upper level, scanning the walking patrons. Several teens dressed in black entered an otherwise cheery looking store.

He held back a snicker.

The stores on the ground level held the same lack luster. A child was trying, and failing miserably, to convince his mother to take him into a candy emporium. The food court held little more than the allure of food and mindless chatter. One table in particular held a rather loud whispered conversation. And they kept sneaking glances his way.

Not one to ignore attention, he slid his gaze towards their table, which held three girls who seemed a year or two younger than he was. The first was an obvious brunette, her hair just barely touching her shoulders. A simply dull brown sweater was over a light blue shirt. She looked like the nice girl that lived next door type.

Sitting next to her was a black haired girl with obvious oriental heritage. There was an impish slant to the hair left to touch her forehead, as the other was pulled back. She seemed to be wearing semi-extravagant jewelry and an over the top yellow leather looking jacket with black stripes. He chuckled, thinking she looked like bumblebee.

Sliding his gaze one seat further, he found it to be empty. He blanched. There had been three girls, he was sure of it. Looking at the other two, he saw them avert their gazes rather quickly, but didn't miss the speculative glances. It only caused him to wonder what they were doing.

"Here, you dropped this."

He turned around to find a stunning girl before him. She had shiny auburn hair with streaks of platinum running parallel to her face. She had the brightest green eyes he had ever seen. They were like the color of grass in the summer a few times over. Honestly, he thought he could get used to women coming up to him, but he never did. That was half the fun anyway.

"Dropped w'at?" Remy questioned, looking once to her hand and then her face. Neither showed anything.

"This," She kissed him then. Right on the mouth, with tongue. Being who he was, he thought that he would have responded sooner but it took him a couple of seconds longer than ever before. He'd had this happen before a select number of times, but this time _definitely_ took the cake.

Remy's arms snaked around to her back, pulling her closer to him, farther into the kiss. She didn't seem to mind, as her hands were still lining his jaw, thumbs moving every so often to stroke the soft skin underneath.

When she finally pulled away, her hands were stuck within his hair. His were around her waist, fingers enticing in their soft sensations. She seemed to be enjoying herself, and allowed herself to lean into his touch a little more than she probably intended. It was then that she let out a contented sigh and leaned her forehead against his own, although he ended up leaning down a little more to make them connect.

"Thanks," She whispered in a delicious southern accent he had missed in the scant weeks he had been north.

Taking his head from her own, he looked down at her with a soft gaze. His eyes showed the desire he already felt for her. His voice captured that desire and practically liquefied it. "For?"

"You just got me five bucks," She was positively beaming with the statement despite the fact that she had just kissed a complete stranger and was still in said stranger's arms.

"So dat's all I am t' y'? Jus' a way t' get money?" He faked hurt with such exuberance that she would be able to tell he was only acting. That fact that he was pouting was not lost on her at all.

She grinned and held in uncharacteristic giggles. "Yeah, that's all ya were to me. Just a source of income," Her face was getting closer as she said this. She put pressure on her toes to rise more to his height until her breath played upon his lips. "And this is for me."

It was a kiss like the first, except with hints of familiarity behind it. It lasted longer than intended but she didn't seem to mind. The battle their tongues engaged in more than made up for lost time. When they pulled apart, she simultaneously unraveled herself from his arms. She granted him another sly grin before simply walking away.

Remy smirked as he watched her return to her friends, who were floored by her bravado. Shaking his head he looked up to see Henri and Mercy on the upper level with a box of Jelly Belly's between the two of them. They were watching him, watching the performance that had just gone on. Suddenly they burst into gratuitous applause with a few carefully chosen wolf whistles.

He rolled his eyes. Only his family would do such a thing.

Henri clapped him on the shoulder as they continued to explore and talk. He asked why Remy didn't just build himself a plastic bubble to keep himself from hormonal women. Remy kindly explained that he didn't mind the attention if it came from girls like her. His brother had mentioned something along the lines that he not get arrogant, because said girl had walked away from him. It was Remy's pleasure to then point out that it was fine, the view was just as well there if not better.

It was probably at that point that Mercy hit them both on the back of the head. But Remy couldn't be sure, because in the following minutes, they were viciously engaged throwing jelly beans at one another and the occasional passerby.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I swear, there was Romy in there. Or at least, there was supposed to be when I wrote it. I _think_ (I'm actually not quite sure) that this is another 'sneaky' movieverse one. Eh, I don't actually like this one much. Anyone want to adopt it? ... Yeah, I'm kidding, mostly. 


	6. Love's Labyrinth

_Thanks for the reviews! I hope to keep writing stuff you guys enjoy. _

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**Shuffling Contingency: _Love's Labyrinth _**

---

Someone laughed, and he threw an arm over his eyes to block out the sound. It didn't help, as the sound only seemed to get louder. Groaning, he moved the crook of his elbow from nestling his nose, biting back a hiss at the sudden light that hit his eyes.

The resounding giggle only frustrated him further.

"Y' know, some o' us were sleeping." He ground out, not wanting to risk looking at the culprit again. Didn't they know his eyes were sensitive to light, especially first thing in the morning? This wasn't the way to start the day.

Apparently, they did know about his eyes, as something came to block the sunlight from hitting his face. A bit of silk touched his cheek as a light pressure was pressed against his lips. He inhaled a scent of pure magnolias and what he identified distinctly as sunshine.

His eyes opened. "_Chère_?"

"Ah stole a kiss from the Prince of Thieves," she boasted from the doorway now, grinning deviously. Obviously she was ridiculously proud of her feat. He shaded his eyes with his hand as he glanced at her. "And now Ah wonder if he'll steal one back."

Remy smirked. Maybe this _was_ a good way to start the day. He started to shove back the covers subtly as he looked at her. "That happens t' be somet'ing Remy does best," he darted out from the bed and was at the doorframe within seconds.

But she anticipated his action, and already tore down the hallway. Her laughter rebounded off the walls to embrace him snugly. Soft and melodious, it was perfect. And he really didn't mind being woken up anymore when he could hear her laugh and watch her smile.

Stalking after her, he tried not to smirk. She should have known better than to start this game, especially since when he caught up with her, he'd steal far more than a kiss. She better be ready for the consequences.

His bare feet left the carpet and even the wooden floor to sink into sinfully soft grass. He sighed, eyes lighting on the structure in front of him: a ten feet tall hedge wall, with an opening, no doubt stretching for several miles.

This would put a damper on his plans for sure.

Again he heard laughter, this time from within the maze. He looked over his shoulder at the house forlornly. He sighed. "De t'ings I do f' dat _femme_."

And walked into the maze.

Frankly, the intense labyrinth that it was most likely meant to be at one time, was in fact, not. To his thieving mind, it was just another puzzle, another lock to pick. Only this time, instead of lock picks and fingers, he had feet and grass. And a curious smattering of clothing.

Grinning, Remy bent at the waist to scoop up a silken glove from its cradle in the grass. It certainly was better than breadcrumbs, and he was more than certain he wouldn't complain when he found her with little to no clothing.

Keeping his path through the greenery, he would bend every so often to pick up a glove, a sock, a shoe or even a brazen jacket. It seemed that his dear Rogue had worn her usual smattering of clothing, which meant there were definite layers to peel.

He heard another laugh, closer than previously and picked up his pace, pushing his long legs a little harder. He was starting to get impatient.

Bending to snatch a mesh shirt from the ground, he could feel a lingering warmth in the fabric. The tips of his lips curved further upwards as his feet carried him around another bend in the hedges. This time though, instead of meeting more hedges, he was in an open area.

The center of the labyrinth.

She was sitting atop a stone bench, lazily dipping her bare feet into the fountain beneath them. She grinned, looking up at the snap of a twig under his feet. "Ah see you found your way here."

Remy smirked, holding up her pile of clothing in his arms. "Better than breadcrumbs," he stated, walking closer to deposit the clothing on a convenient pedestal nearby. He didn't think she'd be needing her clothes back anytime soon.

She worked her feet daintily from the water and went towards him. Her hands rested on his chest, tiptoeing her way closer to him. The action, so unlike her, shocked him and it only encouraged her more. "You were the first person Ah planned on telling when Ah got control."

"Is dat so?"

"Yeah, Ah figured you could help me work out a few years of sexual frustration and fantasies," she purred, running a slim finger under with chin and then down his neck. She didn't seem to care that she was barely clothed in a midriff baring tank and short skirt. But she did notice the small furrow in his brow at her comment.

Gently, Rogue ran a finger over the furrow to straighten it out. She leaned towards him, blowing on his neck before delivering a lingering kiss. "It seemed only fair, since you've been haunting my dreams and desires since Ah first meet you in that junkyard."

The tension that had been in his body released instantly at those words. He didn't know why, but it bothered him that he'd just be a bedtime partner to her. Hesitantly, his hand went to her waist. She only used it to pull him closer, rising to her tiptoes to kiss him as she had this morning.

Her fingers drifted to ghost over his chin, finding contentment in wrapping around the strands of his hair. The muscles in her jaw working to compete with his mouth as their tongues battled. She didn't mind when his hands worked their way to her hips, securing hers against his own.

Drawing back slightly, Rogue let her forehead rest so that it touched his. Her breath was ragged, but in a pleasant way. She smiled slowly, running her fingers leisurely through the hair that framed his face. She tucked a strand behind his ear.

"You were always the first person Ah planned to tell. But you've changed, an' Ah don't know what that means for _us_ anymore."

And then everything dissolved, as if it had never really been there.

* * *

Up in the control booth, Gambit leaned back in the simple chair. His eyes bore down at the area of metallic expanse where the scene had just been portrayed. His fingers curled reflexively until his nails dug through his gloves and into flesh, creating little half-mooned crevices.

He forced himself to inhale, then exhale.

And then he leaned forward, his finger pressing replay as the session Rogue had played out earlier came to life once more.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm not even sure where this one came from. All I know is that it's Evolution based once Gambit's joined the team. And yeah, it's fluffy(ish) and angsty at the same time. And how can Holo!Gambit have thoughts and feelings? Brilliant programming, that's how. Let's say it was a Shadowcat gift to her roommate, her very _lonely_ roommate. 


	7. Fortune's Fools

_Thank you for reviewing and reading. _

**--- **

** Shuffling Contingency_: Fortune's Fools_**  
---

"Hey Sweetheart, you've got company."

"Now Charlie, y' know Remy doesn't like guests t' come when he's not cleaned up de house," a voice came from the darkly lit room not far down the hallway. It took up the whole end, leaving no room to maneuver around it.

The young girl who was currently being escorted by Charles T. Lofts only looked up at the officer in confusion. He only tried to give her a small smile; she wasn't a hardened criminal after all, just a misguided kid. "He's been here for two days already."

She visibly stiffened. "Isn't there a cell for women?"

He shook his head, his red hair bouncing. "Not in a town this small. Don't worry the guy's completely harmless." His hand reached to his belt for metallic keys and then opened up the barred door. He motioned for her to step inside.

Meekly, she did as instructed, standing close to the bars as he shut the door. She gave him an imploring look before her eyes darted around the cell, obviously not believing the guy was harmless.

Charlie smiled softly. "You need something, you just shout. All right?"

"Yeah, okay," she muttered, the white of her bangs shining brightly in the dark room. Forlorn, she watched him walk to disappear behind a thick metal door at the start of the hall. Sighing, she turned to look at the other occupant of the cell.

"No worries, _p'tit_, Remy's on his best behavior here."

Some part of the knot in her stomach loosened at his southern accent, another part stayed coiled at his speech. Hopefully he had been taught manners on how to treat girl by his mother. Just in case, she gingerly removed her jacket so that her pale arms were bared.

"Since we're goin' t' be roomies f' de time bein', we might as well get acquainted. M' Remy." As if sensing that his speech in the third person unnerved her, he shifted to a more common first. He stood slightly, walking towards her with a hand outstretched.

Dully, she noted that he wore partial gloves on his hands. They would be enough, she figured, with the covering her own gave her. She took his hand. "Ah'm An—Rogue."

His head tilted slightly, but he made no comment otherwise. His hand slid from hers smoothly after the appropriated time. He noticed her fingers flex, as if she wanted to wipe her palm against her jeans. "S' nice t' meet y'. O' course, s' a bit o' bad circumstances,_ hein_?"

"Yeah, Ah suppose."

He walked back to his corner and motioned for her to take a seat. She hesitantly sat on the bench a ways down from him. He didn't seem to be insulted at all, instead taking it in stride. His fingers tapped on the knee he had propped up against the wall. What he wouldn't give for a cigarette right now.

"You're real quiet f' a girl named Rogue." Remy's voice rang out in the silence from the cell. There was enough light in the room that they could just make out the feature of the other person in the room. But not enough to find anything memorable about them, which suited him just fine. He could only assume she felt the same way.

Her head tipped upwards from starring at her hand. She gave him a sideways glance before returning to her hands once more. "Ah didn't choose my name."

He tried to stifle a smirk, still not wanting to unnerve or intimidate the girl. He settled for a slight raise in the corner of his lips. "I suppose dat's true. _Mais_, who names der _fille_ Rogue?"

"My mother apparently." Rogue retorted with little humor in her voice. She seemed inherently despondent with her present situation, yet she didn't fight Charlie like most innocently incarcerated people would have. She wanted to be here.

Drawing in a breath, Remy tried to think of some like conversation they could hold. He refused to talk about the weather, mindful of her feelings or not. He ran a hand through his growing auburn hair, despising the fact that it was still too short. "Do y' mind if I smoke?"

"No."

"_Merci_." He took out a cigarette and she watched with interest as he lit it from his finger. She seemed mesmerized by the simple dull orange at the end of the filter head. Then, her eyes widened. Instantly understanding, she moved back from him further.

He realized too late what he had just done. Internally, he called himself seven different kinds of idiot. "_Désole_, I've got no other way t' light it." He watched as her tension didn't ease any at the guilty admission. He hadn't even taken his sunglasses off yet, he remembered downhearted. "If y' make a racket, m' sure Charlie'll let y' go somewhere else. He likes y'."

Trying to make a visible effort to relax her muscles once more, she let out a hasty breath. Her shoulders slumped inwards and her fingers resumed to worrying her gloved hands. "He thinks Ah'm a misguided kid."

His eyebrow raised above the tinted screen of his sunglasses. "An' y' aren't?"

"Ah've got my reasons for being in here. Same as you." Rogue placed her hands palm down against the chill of the bench beneath her. She let her fingers bend to dig into the edge, gripping it tightly.

"Would y' like t' know why m' in here?"

She didn't answer. And he believed he'd gotten her to talk more than she was comfortable with already. "Well, I'll tell y' anyway. See, m' a t'ief, an' no, I didn't get caught. I've got some people after me, so m' just lyin' low f' a bit. Not makin' waves, not makin' ripples. Jail's de best place when dey know y' too good a t'ief t' ever get caught. Dey never look dere den."

She didn't make a sound, only worrying the hem of her t-shirt. He was a little worried that he had told her the truth, and more than he had intended to originally. He took off his sunglasses, studying her without the tinted screens. "M' guessin' y' here t' get away from y' mother t'ough."

Her head shot up, meeting his eyes easily, not really noticing them. "What?"

"Well, considering the fading bruises y' got on y' arms, I'd say y' mother smacks y' around a bit. An' she don't feed y' right, 'cause y' bones stickin' out when dey shouldn't." Remy took another inhalation from his cigarette, letting the smoke out in a controlled motion. All the while he watched her for a reaction.

"Why do you say it's my mother?"

He almost smiled. Not a pleased smile, but a sardonic one. "One, if it was y' father y'd still be in Mississippi where y' accent wouldn't be polluted by dis northern gunk. And two, he wouldn't have fingers dat skinny t' leave bruises like dat."

"You don't know anything about me." Rogue whispered vehemently, glaring at him from her side of the bench. Her breath was coming in a little faster as the blood in her veins seemed to pulsate in her anger.

"Maybe not," he said as he shrugged, somewhat casually. "But I know dat y' here because y' get somewhere safe t' sleep f' de night and somet'ing t' eat. An' all y' have t' do is bend a little law."

She didn't comment. He knew she wouldn't though.

"Y' run away _p'tit_?"

She just bit her lip, her fingers curling into her palm to leave half-mooned marks. She didn't like the way he said it. She didn't like the certainty; she didn't like the knowledge behind those four words. She didn't like the truth behind them either. So she stayed quiet, looking at the wall across from her, refusing to look at the floor and at the same time refusing to look at him.

He noticed all this, and part of Remy hated that he saw it at all. His eyes looked over the girl once more, and the decision he had been wavering on the whole time solidified with a clear answer. "I figure y' one of dose types dat would fight back, _mais_ y' lose y' whole life if y' do. Eventually t'ough, it just gets t' be too much."

Quietly, he stood up, brushing dust from his clothes. His hands straightened the leather duster across his shoulders. He looked up into her eyes again, trying to gauge the thoughts behind them. He was good at reading people, but it only went so far. "Remy knows. He was like dat once," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her breath caught. He didn't know if it was his admission or because she finally recognized the eccentricity of his eyes. Either way, it didn't chance his decision.

With slow, heavy steps he walked closer to her. His boots made an echoing noise in the confined space. Crouching, he met her eyes level steadily. She definitely saw his eyes this time. "If y' ever need somewhere t' stay, an' y' in N'awlins, just look up de LeBeau's. Tell dem dat Gambit sent y'. Dey'll take care o' y' real good."

He stood, turned, and began walking towards the cell door.

"Where're you going?" Rogue asked, her fingers lightly scraping against the bench. Her foot made a scuffing motion against the dirt strewn floor.

Slowly, Remy looked over his shoulder. His red eyes lighting upon the small feature of her face. She was trying not to stand, her muscles tense from the action. He smiled lightly. "It's time f' Remy t' leave. I hope t' see y' again sometime _chère_."

A few decisive motions with his hands was met with the bared door swinging open. He slipped through the open space, his duster swirling around his ankles. He turned, gave her a brief bow, and continued down the hallway.

Slowly, her gaze left where he had disappeared to. Her finger twitched, hitting something near her hand. Confused, she looked down to find a card lying stoically against the bench. Her nails scraped underneath to pick up the flimsy card.

Her thumb ghosted over the surface of the paper. It was smooth, glossed over, black even in the darkness of the room. Starkly in contrast, a Louisiana address with the title "Thieves Guild" blared out at her. Shaking her head, she lay down lengthwise on the bench, her jacket beneath her head.

The card settled atop her stomach, her palm carefully cradling it from harm. A small smile crept over her lips as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I got this crazy thought about Remy and Rogue in jail together and this is what came out. Well no, the first thing had Remy sleeping and Rogue going to jail because she was bored. But I like this one _load_s better. And as to Rogue's abuse it's just kind of open to interpretation. Mystique's her mother, so you can take it as abuse or training. Oh, and I liked the thought of Remy giving Rogue a card that wasn't _actually _a playing card. Anyway, next one I'm hoping will be a lot lighter than the last few have been. 


	8. Harder To Breathe

_Thank you all for reviewing and reading. I hope you keep enjoying these little ditties.  
_

**--- **

** Shuffling Contingency_: Harder To Breathe_**  
---

It doesn't seem possible. 

It's just too perfect, much too perfect for this to be real. Here she was, sitting with a gorgeous hunk of man and she had just spilled her mocha latte all over herself. And despite warranted claims he might have to calling her a klutz, as she had gotten some on him too, he just smiled indulgently.

And she was finding it harder to breathe.

Maybe it was because the blood had all flooded to her face instead of her heart. Maybe it was because she was hyperventilating at a speed not normally known to man and her lungs couldn't keep up. Or maybe, maybe it was because he was sitting there smiling while wiping a drop of mocha latte from her cheek with his thumb.

And she could feel just how warm his hands were. She could tell the amount of work he'd done in his life had left his hands calloused and worn, yet sturdy. And she could feel his breath on her cheek, warm and heady, smelling of spices.

"Ah'm sorry," she muttered, her fingers working furiously to wipe the puddle of liquid from her blouse. Her eyes flitted briefly to his before returning to the stain. Her face felt like she just stepped out from a vegetable steamer, red and warm.

Strong fingers slid underneath her chin, bring her eyes to meet his once again. And she was caught in the sheer volume she found there. She felt her breath catch. "S' all right _chère_. S' not like y' meant to do it." He paused for a moment as if considering, "Did you?"

She tittered a little, a smile flittering across her lips despite her embarrassment. She noticed his smile widen at the glimpse of her own. "No, Ah guess Ah didn't."

"I should hope not. Ot'erwise we'd need to have a talk about date protocols."

She looked at her hands again, twisting them instead of the fabric of her blouse. The difference was that no liquid wrung out from the flesh of her fingers as it would have from the blouse. "You know Ah'm not used to this dating thing…Ah've never really…"

"Sh," he soothed, catching her hands in his own, stilling them. He caught her eyes as well, holding them in a steady gaze. "I already know this. M' aware o' it."

He was leaning closer. She was definitely aware of the fact that he was leaning closer. Why would he be leaning closer? Her brain ran through a half dozen scenarios before she lit on one, and her eyes widened as they flicked between their two persons. And she panicked.

"You know…Ah, Ah've got a meeting Ah got to get to," she made a motion to sit further back from him. Maybe then she could grab her purse to act as a barrier between the two of them.

He raised an eyebrow, his voice dubious. "On a Saturday?"

"Yes."

"In th' middle o' th' afternoon."

"Very important client…Ah can't let the firm down," she muttered, more for her benefit than his. He probably couldn't hear what she was saying anyway. Sometimes her brain just couldn't compete with her mouth.

"_Chère_, why're y' so flustered around me all th' time?"

Still in panic mode, she didn't realize her mouth had moved before her mind could come up with a lie. It really was a problem she needed to fix. "Ah think Ah might be in love with you." She was still in the motion of twisting her torso for her purse when she realized what she said. And froze.

It was sink or swim time. Fight or flight. Be a tiger or turn tail and ostrich it.

And everything in her was chanting to flee, sink, ostrich.

"W'at?" His voice cut through her thoughts, coming off as alarmed. It was probably that he doubted he had heard her correctly. She had been mumbling after all. Maybe he hadn't heard her at all.

Flee, sink, ostrich.

"Ah said that Ah think Ah might have to shove you 'cause of that stunt—" _you pulled at the coffee house_. That was when they met her old boyfriend, who apparently was back to looking for a significant other after having cheated on her with Marline from accounting a few months back. But she never finished the sentence.

_FIGHT_.

She took a breath, letting it out slowly to calm the butterflies playing cricket throughout her body. "No. No, Ah wasn't saying that at all." She swallowed, her mouth feeling uncomfortably dry. Her tongue ran over the dry surface of her lips as she calculated his confused expression. "Ah said Ah think Ah'm in love with you."

Her lungs exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Gradually, her nerve hardened enough that she could risk a quick glance at his facial features. He was smiling. Puzzled, she met his eyes, and found only delight hidden there.

It took her a moment to realize he was leaning closer to her. And as her breath hitched, his lips pressed against her own. Stunned, she took only a few precious moments before responding. Her hand sought out one of his of its own accord while the other rested on his hip. As she pulled away, she was disappointed to notice her breathing was normal once more and her pulse had done nothing out of the ordinary.

She should have felt something. When you kiss someone you love, you should be filled with a joyous euphoria. Something so amazing that you never want that person to leave your side again. It should have been sparkles and sunshine. It should have been magic.

But instead, she felt nothing.

Green eyes met crimson and the same confusion was mirrored in their depths. He felt the same. Or, at least, she believed he did. "You feel anything?" she asked timidly, afraid of his answer. Afraid of her own.

"No." He stated quite dejectedly. Apparently he had been hoping for more much the same that she had. That made her feel infinitely better. "How 'bout you?"

And because of his purely honest answer, she could respond in kind. "Nothing. You want to try again?"

Never one to turn away from a kiss, he shrugged. But his shoulders held a tension in them, belying his hope that the first kiss was just a fluke. "Sure."

This time, they both leaned forwards, meeting halfway in the middle. As the light pressure became more insistent, she felt his tongue at her lower lips and opened her mouth obligingly. For a few blissful moments, nothing else was present. When they pulled away, they were both a tad short of breath, but not disheveled in any other way.

"Anything?" He asked, expectation shining from his red on black eyes.

"Nope." It wasn't quite a cheerful statement, but it wasn't all together morose. At least now she didn't have to act awkwardly around him anymore.

"Me neither. I guess…we just stay friends then."

"Yeah, that's probably for the best."

He clasped her hands in his own and smiled at her, the same smile he'd been giving her the whole afternoon, only this time, they both new it was from friendship and nothing more. And she felt her heart sink, cursing herself for not feeling anything for him besides friendship. But she returned the smile, acting her best.

It was going to take her awhile to recover from this episode.

"_CUT_!" A shrill voice bellowed out from the darkness. The lights dimmed and the two on the bench visibly relaxed their muscles. All around them, people hustled around, clipboards piled in their hands and headsets over their ears. Several bodies clustered around a bright orange chair, talking with a man who's hair was the same flamboyant color.

Cracking her neck, world famous actress, Rogue leaned backwards to slump into the wooden slates surrounded by a picturesque park scene. Beside her Remy LeBeau rested his arms across the top of the bench with his legs spread wide. Taking a deep breath, she let her eyes close while waiting for the director to tell them to give it another go.

"How many times do you think we'll have to do this scene?" Rogue voiced just loud enough for her companion to hear her over the chattering of the crew around them.

With enthusiasm Remy snorted, fixing her with an easy grin that she saw through one cracked eyelid. "Enough times dat I'll probably end up buying you dinner in th' end."

Smiling, her eyes lit on his mischievous contact colored eyes. Apparently the full red on black eye coverings were to give an air of danger to his character. Much like how hers was a klutz and she was currently donning a mocha latte that props had prepared for her. Not to mention her hair

Her head rolled to the side, resting her cheek against his shoulder while her neck was braced against his arm. "You want to bet on the writers changing their mind that Anna and Robert will actually feel something at the end of the whole thing? Maybe after the next twenty takes or so?"

"Nuh-uh," he shook his head with as little movement as possible. But his smirk belied his true feelings on the subject. "Th' last time we bet, they choose to side wit' you. M' not making that mistake twice."

"What can Ah say, Ah'm a star," Rogue stated in a breezy manner, shrugging carelessly.

"That y' are." He agreed with a wink thrown her way. She laughed accordingly and they let the silence rest between them, light and enjoyable.

She found it endlessly amusing that their natural accents fit their characters. It was like they were tailored to fit only them. Not to mention that she got along so well with her co-star, when she usually found the men she worked with to be irritating. But the best, possibly worst of it was that while on stage she pretended to feel nothing from that kiss, she felt everything.

It _was_ like magic.

It lit her on fire. It sent her pulse racing, and her breath to become ragged. Saying those words, it was as if they were coming straight from her. And depending on how many more takes they had to do, she might have to try a little harder to fake it. Especially since every time he came closer to her, she found it harder to breathe.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Just one of those things that came to mind. I think it was after watching a really corny kiss scene, and imagining that happening to Rogue and Remy. Well, except with a few twists and turn along the way. Like, you know, them being paid to do it and such. But nothing is every simple for them. Hey, anyone want to guess who the director is from his little paragraph. Orange chair, orange shirt, romance scene. C'mon, take a gandering guess. 


	9. A Beautiful Lie

_Thanks for all the reviews and readings so far and for everyone who added Shuffling Contingency to an alert or a favorite. Thanks! You guys rock. _

**-- **

** Shuffling Contingency_: A Beautiful Lie_**  
--

A beam of sunlight shone down on the face of a young woman. Amid her slumber, she shifted, angling her body to the left, towards the warmth. Wisps of consciousness seemed to return as one thing was clear to her mind: go towards the warmth.

Shuffling, her auburn hair splayed out across the ground as she moved closer. It was so warm, a warmth that she lacked and craved. Her body uncoiled slightly to absorb more of the heat than it could curled up. A content smile spread across her lips.

Lazily, her eyes eyelids flickered open. They took a few moments to adjust to the light, before taking in the sight before her. It was true that she was indeed in the path of the sun, yet she was also extremely close to a human being.

When she looked up at their face, she gasped.

It had only been a few years since mutants were publicly outed. And in those years, humanity had advanced along with technology and decided that genetic anomalies weren't wanted. They were to be hunted.

And so the fact that she was lying next to another mutant shouldn't have been what shocked her. She had decided to travel into the sewer system for the night because she knew this was one place where mutants were accepted, where they were safe. If you could call the cramped space that.

Truthfully, she didn't think it was his mutantcy that caused her to lose her breath. If it had been anything, it was his eyes. They were the most unbelievably beautiful and horrible eyes that she had ever seen. And she had seen plenty in her life.

She looked into his eyes, gorgeous red on black that revealed his genetic heritage, and felt an incomparable feeling of safety wash over her. With the sun shining down in the dingy tunnel, lined with moss at the edges, she felt safe. Here, with him.

An almost complete stranger, and yet she felt such a connection with him. It was something that she had been told not to ignore in her life. Her gut, her instinct, it was what saved her life on a daily basis. So what did it say when it told her should could trust this man implicitly?

What did it say that among all the other bodies around her, his was the one that she had moved towards subconsciously? What did it mean that his eyes were just as wide as hers as he looked at her? What did it mean that her palms itched uncontrollably to touch his face without the aid of her glove?

It meant that she was in trouble.

And that sometimes, she had to go against her gut, her instinct.

But even as she knew that to be true, her dazed and lethargic mind could not execute her decisions. Her body, her muscles only inched that much closer to this man with his devilish eyes. And soon, the only thing that could truly move was her head, and it too sought a closer proximity.

Their lips were a breath away, literally. His breath played across the flesh along her jaw line, making her mind jumble further into chaos. Her eyelids fluttered, threatening to close fully, but not from sleep or exhaustion. Her breathing was shallow, barely registered as her eyes bore into his steadily.

She was going to lean forwards, to connect the scant centimeters that separated them. But even as she made that decision, her thoughts from earlier came racing back. This feeling, this instinct was not to be trusted. This _man_ was not to be trusted.

No one was to be trusted anymore.

Finally, she tore her gaze from his own and pushed herself violently backwards. Her body curled in on itself, her knees tucking in to touch her chin. Her breathing increased as her chest heaved. She flicked up her gaze to his face, seeing mild surprise and hurt. But mostly, she saw concern, and it made her torso constrict that much more.

Scrambling purposefully to her feet, she set her feet to walking away from him. From everyone and everything. She couldn't believe what she had almost done. It wasn't the fact that her power would have ended things quickly, it was the fact that she hadn't thought about them the whole time.

It was the fact that she held no reservations against the man. It was the fact that he was a complete stranger. And most importantly, it was the fact that she trusted him. She trusted him with her life and she didn't know a thing about him. She felt this deep connection with him that insisted to her that he was all right, he was safe, and he was _home_.

Not that it probably would have changed things anyway.

But she couldn't believe these feelings. Because no matter what her gut told her, there _was_ no one she could trust. No one that could keep her 'safe', and no one that could make her existence worth living, no one worth loving. There was no home for Rogue.

Because in the end, love was really just a beautiful lie in this world but a lie all the same. And she wasn't getting caught in that web ever again. So she left, she walked away from the beautiful man with his red on black eyes. She walked away from her feeling of security, of warmth, and of home.

And since that day, the empty pit in her stomach hasn't filled and her heart still aches with a dull thump, reminding her of what she lost.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I was reading something and this idea just popped into my head, out of nowhere. Well, actually I think it had something to do about people waking up to look at each other, but then this just like went "Hey! Pay attention to me! Write me! No, don't look at the clock. It's not two in the morning, the clock lies. W-R-I-T-E M-E!!" I'm not joking. I have the furious post-it notes to prove it. Scary man, scary. … Yes, I might have been hallucinating. No, I didn't have any toxins or alcohol this evening (morning). Anyway, enough with my ramblings. Just for some clarification on this one (because I realize it might be confusing), this is like a futuristic setting where mutants are being hunted and killed by the humans. And so one of the many ways to avoid them is the sewers, because _no one_ really wants to go down there. It's sort of bittersweet, but it's an uphill process to purely fluffy one-shots. Until the next time, all right? We'll see what happens in that one together, because I've got no clue.


	10. Piece of You & Me

_Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed, alerted, read or favorited (yeah...it's not really a word) so far. I hope I keep making you want to read!_

_-- _

**Shuffling Contingency**_**: ****Piece of You (& Me)**__  
_

--

It was raining outside.

The water drops pelted against the expensive panes of glass that lines the bay window in the mansion's kitchen. All the other residents of the mansion were responsibly asleep, bar one. In the solitary environment of the late-night kitchen, Rogue sat contemplating yet another memory that kept her from sleep.

With the return of her gift in full, the memories had become more frequent, more inconvenient. But she refrained from telling the others. They would just worry needlessly for her sake, and she wasn't that girl anymore.

Besides, there was another memory that she would much rather remember.

Her ungloved hand reached out into the darkness and into the depth of the fruit bowl. Carefully, she selected a peach from the mass. Her body leaned sideways to collect a knife from the drawer not far from her seat.

She held the peach in her hand, mindful of the juices it would produce. A slight smile stretched across her lips as she glanced at the fruit. Peaches were something special to her. Something special indeed.

The knife sliced through the fruit smoothly.

* * *

The knife sliced through the fruit smoothly.

In the hot, muggy, weather that currently plagued New Orleans, a cool crisp treat was exactly what the doctor ordered. And she had always been particularly fond of apples. The only bad apple was one with a bruise, otherwise they were perfect.

And she desperately needed something perfect for this day.

This day, one of the many that she was spending in New Orleans to visit a childhood friend, had not gone as planned. Her friend had been the one contact that she had maintained throughout her mutancy. Mercy didn't give a flying flip that Rogue could drain her life force with the brush of a finger, all she cared about was when Rogue would visit her.

Of course, the only time that Rogue actually considered the trip was once her powers had been removed. Why not enjoy the warm currents of the South to their fullest? But unfortunately, Mercy had recently been married to Henri LeBeau and they had put off the honeymoon for a few weeks, which happened to be only a few days from when Rogue was scheduled to arrive.

To make matters worse, Henri's younger brother and Mercy's brother-in-law, Remy, was in town and needed a place to stay. For some reason or another, the LeBeau manor was not an option. Rogue guessed he didn't get along well with his parents. The obvious choice was the couple's apartment, that Mercy had loaned Rogue in lieu of them leaving for Paris. She had been rather distraught on the phone, and so to not disturb the honeymoon, Rogue had assented to the brother sharing the apartment space with her.

It was a rather large apartment after all, so it shouldn't have been a problem.

Except that, this _little _brother just happened to be breathtakingly handsome, and Rogue could finally touch again. Not that she planned to do anything raunchy; it was just the idea that she _could_ that caused her trouble. That, and her hormones really wanted her to touch somebody, anybody.

So, after their first meeting, she tried to avoid him as much as possible.

But on a night like this, when the window's were wide and the breeze drifted in over the beads of condensation along her skin, she completely forgot that she was not alone in the apartment. If she had remembered, she never would have ventured to the kitchen in a tank and shorts.

Her knife cut through another portion of apple flesh and she eagerly devoured the wedge. It splashed across her mouth delightfully. She sighed and leaned back against the counter, closing her eyes in the process. It was so nice to be back down South once more without her powers as a hindrance.

She felt like she could take a risk, just this once in this city.

Maybe tomorrow she would try to go dancing.

Maybe she would meet someone.

"Do y' mind if I join y'?"

She looked up, surprised, into the face of her roommate, the one she had forgotten temporarily. Her eyes widened slightly when she noticed he didn't have a shirt on, especially when part of her didn't mind in the slightest. "Be my guest."

"T'anks. Jus' wanted t' grab a snack." His movements were fluid, graceful yet still manly. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. Her eyes followed obediently as he moved to select a peach from the fruit bowl on the counter. Remy reached for a knife and began the cut the fruit into wedges.

His eyes were downcast, watching his task with seemingly concentrated focus. His eyelashes brushed against his cheekbones. He had beautiful eyes. So consumed with watching the tiny muscles in his fingers work was she that she never noticed his head raise. Nor did she notice the slight smile play across his lips. It wasn't until he held out a slice of peach that she realized she had been starring, and had been caught.

Flushing, she shook her head, at herself and at the unspoken question.

"Y' don't want any?" His brow wrinkled ever so slightly. It seemed like he was confused by her refusal. Then again, he probably had women eat out of his hands all the time, literally.

She offered a curt smile and another shake of her head. "No thanks. Ah'm not big on peaches."

"Not big on peaches?" He scoffed in disbelief. His eyes lowered to the fruit in his hand and he shook his head lightly before his gaze flickered back to her face. "Y' don't really know w'at you're missin' then. They're best this time o' year."

Rogue watched him place the slice into his mouth, chew languidly, and swallow. She gulped. They certainly did look good this time of year. "Ah've never really liked them, ever since Ah was a kid. Ah think Ah got sick off of them once or something."

He took another slice, and she forced herself to watch something else, anything else. "They've been my favorite fruit since I was a kid. Still are. I don't know if I can take that y' haven't had a peach since y' was a kid."

"There's always food you don't eat after a bad experience. It's like that for everyone." She was squirming now. Maybe not physically, but mentally, she knew that something was about to happen. She had been having this feeling around him since she first met him. Something insatiable, something that was enigmatic.

"True, _mais_, there's always a way to overcome an unpleasant memory."

He ate another few pieces of peach before he pushed himself away from the counter, and walked closer. Which set Rogue on guard immediately. She pushed her chair back and stood. "Well, Ah think Ah'll be going to bed."

His hand snaked out, encircling her wrist easily. "Rogue." He whispered.

"Yes?" Her gaze flickered to the distance left uncovered to the exit from her wrist and then returned to his face.

"Let me help y'," he moved closer. She moved back, or that is, she tried until she ran into the counter, which seemed to suit Remy just fine. His hand fluttered under her jaw line to rest against the back of her neck. "overcome t'at memory."

He leaned in, and brushed his lips against her own once, twice and applying pressure on the third. Her eyes closed without a thought and she reveled in having _warm_ lips pressed against her own. And slowly, as if sensing her inexperience to the matter, he coached her into opening her mouth to him. When she did, she tasted remnants of something sticky, something sweet.

Her tongue, of its own accord, sought out the source of this in his mouth.

Which only lead to encouraging Remy, and her hormones, and Remy's hand finding its way under the hem of her shirt. And surprisingly, Rogue didn't mind as much as she should have, especially since he was already shirtless.

And when he lifted her up unto the counter, she was overjoyed because now she was on a more equal height with him. Except that during those brief moments they both had to breathe, and her mind was to frazzled to say anything scathing, witty, sultry or just plain salvaging.

Instead she uttered, "You taste good."

He chuckled, and Rogue could feel the rumble of his chest against her palms. "It's the peach," he whispered lowly in her ear, which wasn't fair because he definitely sounded sexy and sultry when he said such an ordinary sentence.

Despite this she smiled, albeit shyly, and linked her hands behind is neck. "Maybe Ah _do_ like peaches," she murmured as she pulled his head down towards hers once more.

"T'at's all I can hope for."

And she was pretty sure that she preferred peaches over apples from now on.

* * *

_And she was pretty sure that she preferred peaches over apples from now on._

Even though she liked peaches more than apples, she still couldn't bring herself to eat many peaches. Because that taste of peaches has always held an exhilarating quality for her since then. Each bite of the sweet, sticky treat reminds her of the heated embrace of that warm night. Each taste brings to mind a wicked smile to match the tangy flavor.

And when one lives in a house full of people trained to be observant, such reactions are not convenient. They are especially not convenient when she neighboring telepaths might break through the chaos of her mind and catch a snippet of her memory.

Though she might steal the memories of others, Rogue does not often share her own. This was one memory that she would share with no one. No one but for Remy. But she wouldn't be seeing Remy again, because if they touched this time, he would probably die.

Just like David. Just like everyone.

Generally she can only eat peaches sparingly because they are a reminder of her one indulgent, of the few glorious days that she spent alone in that apartment with Remy. Days where the only thing they ate were peaches, and the only room they occupied was the bedroom.

Of days when she was truly free from her powers.

So each time she eats a peach, she forgets about her present worries and loses herself to the memory of those days and nights. She loses herself to the memory of New Orleans and its Prince Charming. Because when she eats a peach, she has always got a piece of Remy with her that's so unlike the psyches she keeps with her.

Because this piece is truly a part of her.

Because this piece is real.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** …And I broke the pattern I was trying to work. Opps. I think this is my favorite one to date. It's centered around my two favorite fruit. And although apples are typically symbols of temptation, I really wanted to eat a peach at the time. Oh well. There are a few references to others in the Mansion and in New Orleans, mostly since I didn't want their names in here. I realize there are probably grammar mistakes (like always) but its sort of late and I won't have time tomorrow, so I'm rolling with the metaphorical punches. Heartfelt apologies if it bothers you.


	11. So Contagious

_You guys are the greatest for actually reading these. And for putting up with my very sporadic updates. Thanks for all the reviews, alerts and favorites! _

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**Shuffling Contingency_: So Contagious_**

**--**

It had been one hundred and thirty four minutes already, and still he remained in the same position he began in. He knew, because he had been counting religiously.

It was entirely possible that he had never been this motionless in his entire life. And he had been on quite a few heists where moving would have gotten him caught, killed or taunted until kingdom come. But he had never experienced something like this on a heist. Those times he breathed, right now he couldn't be too sure that he was actually breathing.

He didn't think there was anything that could compare to what he experienced in this moment. Nothing in the world. Well, perhaps there was but the likelihood of it happening reached into the depths of negative imaginary numbers. And those weren't real for a reason.

Because currently, Remy was residing on the recreational room's couch with his feet propped up on the table in front of him. That was not uncommon. The extraordinary part of the situation was the fact that Rogue was lying against his upper chest, her body touching his.

And her hand was very near his collarbone.

And his arm was drape across her lower back.

And she had her face upturned to his.

And…she was fast asleep.

Remy figured that was the only possible way for Rogue to ever be caught in such a situation with him. Even more curious was the fact that Remy had woken up to find them this way. Which meant that maybe, just maybe, she had done this of her own volition.

But it didn't seem likely.

It had been just a little over one hundred and thirty four minutes since he had woken up, and Rogue had still not moved. Her breathing was as even as in the beginning, wafting up towards his neck in a torturous heated breeze making his fingers ache to touch her, caress her. Her hair was still splayed out against his chest, making her look more beautiful than she normally was. It smelled flowery, like magnolias or honeysuckle.

It really wasn't something he minded. Having her laying on him felt nice, her breath mingling with his felt nice, and her face looked peaceful. It was probably the most relaxed that Remy had ever seen her. Plus, she would occasionally let out a soft sigh that produced a tingling sensation in his stomach that he couldn't identify but definitely did not dislike.

It felt _really_ nice.

To tell the true, it felt more than nice. It felt wonderful to have her laying there when normally she wouldn't be caught dead this close to another person, let alone him. The places where she touched him were on fire. They burned through his clothing and through the layers she wore until his skin felt scorched.

It burned, in the most excruciatingly tantalizing sensation he had ever felt.

He didn't think anyone else's touch would come close to this not-touching that was occurring.

It was addictive, but not like the addictive quality of nicotine. It was more along the lines of an addiction to oxygen, which is natural since it keeps a person alive. Rogue for all intent and purposes was his equivalent to an oxygen addiction. A good addiction.

Which was what worried him. Sure, it was fine that he was reveling in the moment while he could, but things would change once she woke up. She would be cold and distant towards him. Their current camaraderie would all but disappear behind her usual icy demeanor. She would probably hit him a few times for it too.

Worse was that nothing would make him happier than to run his fingers down her arm right now, to just trail his fingers along her spine and make her shiver with delight. He wanted to see her muscles relax while in the presence of another person. He wanted to see her lovely grey-green eyes widen so that only the green remained.

Holding her like this, he almost felt like he could do such things. It was like a glimpse at the Rogue that she would be without the burden of her powers and the manipulation by everyone in her life. It was the Rogue she _should_ have been. And maybe if he could hold her a little longer, he could protect her from those people.

But that was just the fluttering in his stomach talking. He knew it wasn't rational, wasn't logical, but he didn't want that feeling to stop telling him things. He liked what it said. He liked the images it brought to his eyes. He liked that Rogue could cause this feeling with such simple touches.

It was just _so _contagious of a feeling.

And when the hand that rested near his collarbone curled to fist his shirt, Remy let out a hesitant and shaky breath. It was the first one he remembered taking throughout the whole thing. But her only response was a cat-like sigh as she nuzzled his chest and moved an inch or two closer to his body. His chest replied with a reflexive tightening as he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

The battle against this addiction was clearly an uphill one. And Remy was destined to lose. He wasn't a person who was built for resistance. More like instant gratification. But just this once, Remy wished that he could endure the feeling and forget how wonderful this night felt.

Because he knew it wouldn't last.

Because Rogue deserved better than he could give her.

No matter what, he would avoid the burning sensation and the contagious tendencies her touch elicited within him, because he owed her that much. If he was going to protect her from the people that betrayed her, he would have to keep his distance because he'd already betrayed her once.

What good was protecting someone when you've already committed the fault before though?

And what good was it to avoid something that was so contagious it only took one hundred and thirty four minutes to addict you?

There probably wasn't a point, but Remy was going to try anyway, for Rogue.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Awwwwwww. Stutter at the cuteness that is Remy! And fallen-fast-asleep Rogue! They should be made into adorable plushies figurettes. Or you know, not. I'm not totally sure if this counts as far as the "lets try and makes these less depressing" project I've been aiming for, since Remy's a little angsty in his own way. Well that's all right, I like the bitterish ones anyway. And hopefully, as a treat to you guys, the next one will be a continuation (just another little snippet from that universe) of one of the previous installments. Oh, but which one will it be I wonder?


	12. RR II When I Grow Up

_And... I'm an awful, awful updater. So very sorry! Thank you for all the reviews, alerts, reads and favorites! You guys are the best!  
_

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**Shuffling Contingency: **_Roadblocks In Relationships II - When I Grow Up_

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Marriage. Wedding. Commitment.

They were just words, the whole lot of them. Anyone who said differently was either lying through their teeth or selling something. It was the thoughts, feelings, and actions that transformed those words into something else entirely.

And usually those words (marriage, wedding, commitment) were followed by other such words like love, joy and blissful. Again, they were only words without feelings behind them to enforce them.

Except that Remy never felt anything of the sort, least of all towards the one person he should. Which was why when words like marriage, wedding, and commitment should have been going through his head it was instead filled with phrase like miles per gallon, twenty-four hours, and two in the morning.

Ultimately, those words led him to the situation he found himself in presently: wheeling his motorcycle down the long drive of his family's estate with no more than a duffel as luggage. He cursed silently for having to wheel the bike manually down the drive in the first place when it would be far more time efficient to just start it and go.

But, then the house would wake up and he'd never get out.

Really, what he was doing took a considerable amount of courage, and tempting fate further by tearing down the path would take more than he had. He didn't think he could take the disappointment on his family's face. Not to mention his _Tante_ would be out of the house in a second, wooden spoon in hand. And she ran deceptively fast for her age.

She called it good genes, he suspected she took something.

As he neared the end of the drive, Remy gazed longingly at his childhood home, taking in the once white columns that lined the front. He would never be allowed back there, let alone into the state. This was perhaps the worst thing to come of his actions. To never see his city, his house, his family again. Not Mattie, not Lapin, not Henri and most certainly not Anna.

He sighed, pushing the bike the last few feet down the drive and through the iron gate. He swung a leg over the small machine and rested his weight on his left leg in order to kick the bike into motion with his right. He drew up his leg, knee bent, and muscles bunching—

"You plannin' to leave without so much as a goodbye?"

—And let it sink to the ground with a heavy air of defeat about it.

He shifted, moving to stand fully instead of half crouch with the bike between his legs. Glowing eyes slid sideways to rest on the young girl wearing a short cotton nightgown that was well suited for the muggy night. The solid stripe of hair that lined her face was illuminated in the moonlight.

Avoiding her eyes, he noticed her stance, leaning against the tree with her arms crossed belying the tension in her body and the rage that she was feeling. His eyes lowered, further hiding from her gaze to settle on the tree roots. "W'at're y' doin' out here, Anna?"

"Ah really think the better question, brother, is what are _you_ doing out here?" There was so much disdain in that voice, a voice that was usually full of warmth that it took him a moment to respond.

"Rogue…"

"Don't you Rogue me, Remy." She seethed, her eyes blazing dangerously. The sound of the nickname only angering her more rather than the appealing effect he had been searching for. "You know you deserve this. Were you just going to leave without telling anyone?"

Remy scuffed at the dirt with his foot. This was almost worse than _Tante_ and her spoon. He took a breath, trying to solidify his resolve. He was leaving no matter what Anna said or did. "_Non_. I left a note wit' everyt'ing t'at they need to know."

She snorted, tilting her head to the side and letting her eyes widen as the plastered smile worked itself unto her face. "An' what, Oh Wise One, do _they_ need to know?"

"That they shouldn't look f' me. An' that I won't be back," he answered plainly. It was the truth. It was too late in the game to start lying, especially when he was _so_ close to exiting it all together. He needed to wrap this up quickly and leave. Otherwise the rest of the family would find out.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Yeah, well, Ah thought Ah knew you too. But Ah guess Ah was wrong there. So enlighten me," Anna's palms briefly turned outward towards him in a sweeping motion before returning to settle on her forearms. They curled into barely concealed fists.

"I can't marry her, Anna. She's not—I…I just can't marry her." He rubbed his hand through his hair, nervously, as his eyes flitted up to meet her gaze. He quickly looked away. He didn't like what he saw reflected in her eyes.

"So tell them that!" She exclaimed as she walked away from the tree's support and towards him. His eyes met hers and widened slightly which seemed to catch her attention. She hadn't realized she'd moved. She hastily backed up to the tree again. "He's your father, Remy. He'll understand." She added in a softer, more controlled, voice.

"He's not my father," he muttered.

"Oh, don't pull that adopted crap now. The man would do anything for you. He loves you." She said it with so much conviction that for a minute, Remy almost believe it was true. Almost. Too much had happened in his life for him to truly be that naïve.

"_Mais_ he loves the Guild more."

Anna threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "Guild this, Guild that. _Gawd_, if Ah knew this family was going to be such a pain in the ass Ah would have just stayed in Caldecott. Would have been a hell of a lot simpler."

Remy snorted, knowing that was far from the truth. Her life in Caldecott was far from simple, and her continued existence there would have only made it more complicated. "Sure y' would have."

Briefly, Anna allowed herself a wry grin. "Well, Ah would have only stayed there for another month or so anyway." She steeled her emotions away as soon as she realized he had changed the subject though. "Why're you leavin', Remy? They'll all be heartbroken."

He noticed how she didn't mention herself. An old habit she had never kicked, one that he could admit he had never kicked fully either. When you have no family, _real_ family, you don't admit to your feelings. If you admit to them, then someone can use them against you and then they can use you.

Deciding to just remain silent, he was finally able to meet her gaze directly. He knew now how much his leaving was going to hurt her, and he felt he owed her at least this much, probably more. Worse, he knew that if she asked right now, he would stay.

It was all wrong. Wrong decision, wrong girl, and wrong feelings.

"Ah thought you liked Belle," she admitted quietly, her arms shifting faintly, making her arms into a protective stance rather than a wrathful one. Her body posture closed in on itself by the smallest degree that most wouldn't notice. But he did.

"As a friend, _oui_, _mais_ not as a wife," he decided that he probably owed her a little more explanation. Or at least, he would be required to supply more of an explanation before this was all over. "M' not ready t' get married yet, and Belle definitely isn't who I want t' be my wife."

"You've thought about it?" She asked genuinely surprised by the information.

In fact, he had thought about it right after the decision had been relayed to him. He had thought that if there was ever someone he could see spending the rest of his life with, it wouldn't be Belle. It would be Anna. Anna, who was happy simply to spend time with him rather than be seen around the city with him on her arm.

"_Un __peu_. Nothin' real serious, t'ough. Like I said, m' not ready t' get married, _chére_" Remy replied as he reached into the pocket of his trench for a cigarette. It seemed that this conversation was not helping to calm his already frazzled nerves.

"So, you've got someone in mind you'd rather marry, then?"

"Yeah, I do." His eyes squinted ever so slightly as he assessed how her voice had softened and her body had closed in on itself more than before. It was just about how she had been the first few days she had come to the house: insecure, unsure of what her feelings really were towards him.

Anna didn't say anything after that. She just alternated between starring at him and at the house. Which, to tell the truth, irritated Remy to some degree. He really needed to leave. He lit the cigarette with the tip of his finger and too a deep inhalation.

It was a few empty minutes more before he decided to break the silence. "Dere somet'ing else y' want t' say, _ch__é__re_? Otherwise, I've got to leave."

"Jus' hold your horse, Cajun. Ah'm tryin' to—" She stopped, looking up to meet his gaze before her expression set in a scowl and habit took over. "Get that cancer stick outta your mouth!"

Remy smirked, back on familiar ground. "Y' goin' t' have to get it first." He taunted in an old, easy banter they had gone over several times in the past years. He smoked, she hated it.

She snarled, her lip curling up as her body posture expanded to rage once more. "Don't think Ah won't!"

"Go ahead an' try, _ch__é__re_, y' never catch Remy."

Her eyes narrowed, whether from the taunt or from the third person he never knew, and without further notice she lunged forward across the few feet between them. He dodged away from his bike, leading her away from it, hoping that it would escape any harm. She feigned left, and he twirled off that way when she went right.

He laughed, and it only angered her more.

This time, when Anna feigned, it wasn't a feign at all. And to ensure victory, her calf curled around his and yanked backwards viciously. He fell with a heavy sound, foot catching hers at the last moment so that she fell right on top of him.

Quickly, she took the cigarette from his mouth and crushed the head in the dirt. She tilted her head with a satisfied smile, her breaths coming in pants. But there was still a tension lined throughout her body. His brow furrowed in confusion despite his annoyance at his sloppiness.

"Ah keep telling you those things will kill you some day."

"Maybe I don't listen."

"Well, obviously you should. Otherwise this will just keep happening." Her air was easy and self-assured. And it was almost a sort of light-hearted happy, letting only a little of her previous displeasure shine through.

He smirked despite this. She hadn't bothered to secure him down effectively. He gripped her wrists, legs rising to wrap around her waist as he rolled unto his knees with her trapped between them. "Yeah, t'is _will_ keep happening because y' never remember to hold down th' extremities."

She grimaced and tried to wiggle out from under his hold. But he had her pinned effectively. Something besides the sour taste of defeat caused her to continue fighting against him. And he intended to figure out why she was struggling so much.

"Let me up, Remy."

He ignored her, favoring instead to bear down into her eyes with his gaze. It didn't work as well as he had hoped when all she did was narrow her eyes in response and set her jaw determinedly. "Why did you come out here, Anna?"

She avoided, again. "Let me up."

"_Non_."

She sighed, rolled her eyes. She puffed a bit of air up to move a piece of hair from her face, shaking her head at the same time to move it as if to distract her, or him, from her words. "Ah wanted to talk some sense into you."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "By making m' stay?" He didn't believe her. Staying wasn't the smart thing to do; staying wasn't even something anyone _should_ do. It was being sentenced to a prison with extravagant parties and endless chatter. It was a death sentence. She knew this.

"You can't leave!" Anna exclaimed, her chest rising a little higher with the expelled breath. She inhaled deeply before continuing. "It'll hurt everyone if you do. Nothing will be the same anymore."

"Nothing will be the same if I get married either," he pointed out, slightly angered that she didn't get the horrible circumstances that would befall him should he remain in New Orleans, in Louisiana. And probably anywhere within the Sunbelt.

"Jean-Luc will see reason. He won't make you get married to her. Ah'll have Momma talk to him." A self-satisfied smile crossed her lips at the thought. Her mother was Jean-Luc's one weakness, and Priscilla could not deny her baby girl anything. In turn, it meant Jean-Luc was wrapped around her little finger.

But Remy knew on this matter, Jean-Luc wouldn't budge for Anna or Priscilla. Peace meant too much to the man, the Guild. He let out a puff of air from his lungs. "_Chére_, s'not that simple."

"Well Ah'm making it that damn simple!" She cried, a small sob escaping her throat. She swallowed thickly, trying to force the bile down her throat once more. Her breathing, as erratic as it had become, struggled to return to an even rhythm.

His concern rose as he watched her struggle with herself, her emotions rolling over him with acute clarity. "Rogue, why'd you come out here?" He asked softly, keeping his tone even and smooth to calm her roller coaster emotions. "Tell me the truth."

Her breath hitched, control shattering for the moment. Her emotions spiked and Remy sucked in a breath at what he felt. "Ah couldn't let you leave," Anna's voice was quiet and hesitant, wary of her words, wary of her feelings.

"Why?"

"Ah need you."

He rolled his eyes. He very much doubted that was the whole reason, if it could be considered a reason at all. And it would take more than that to get Remy to remain in New Orleans. "Y' need a lot of t'ings."

"No, it's not like that. Ah…" Anna bit her lip, hesitating while she thought of what she wanted to say. "You're my brother, Remy. But you're also my friend. Probably the best friend Ah got, and that's rare for me. Ah don't want to lose that—you. If you leave, Ah lose that. Ah'll lose a part of myself."

"Y' could come with me, _chére_." Remy allowed a little wistfulness to creep into voice as he entertained the possibility. They would be able to ride around the country, travel wherever they wished. And maybe with enough time, the impossible would happen.

She popped her hip, letting it jut out to the side and her hand rested on it. Skepticism along with disbelief flittered across her face. "Come with you? In what, my nightgown?"

Grinning cheekily, he gave her appearance a once over as he had done many times before. "I don't mind."

"Ew, dirty." The line rolled easily from her tongue as a smile stretched across her face. It was a banter that had passed between them quite easily for the past four years.

"We could pick you up some clothes," he said seriously.

Her smile disappeared when her face tell forwards, her hair covering her expression. A foot scuffed the ground nervously, in an unthinking gesture. "Ah can't leave, Remy."

A hand clenched, resting against his thigh. She had dismissed the possibility so easily, as if it wasn't even worth considering. It felt as if she didn't find _him_ worth considering. "Why not?"

"Because this is the first family Ah've had in forever!" Anna exclaimed, her hands rising in frustration and her foot stepping forwards slightly. "Ah don't want that to disappear."

"And w'at, m' not part of that family?" The anger rose within him, swallowing anything else that he might be feeling at that moment. Nothing else was as important as the idea that she didn't even deem him to be family.

Another length of dirt fell underneath her bare feet as she moved closer. Her arms reached out for him, hands wanting to wrap around the lapels of his trench. "You are! Why do you think Ah want you to stay so badly? Ah want my _whole_ family, not parts!"

He gave her a withered look, his anger unabated by her words. "So, y' want t' have your cake an' eat it too?"

She gulped, and nodded.

"It seems there's a problem then." Remy offered her a sad smile, which was ruined by the cruel twisting of his lips. He shook his head, as if he could hear her thoughts and disagreed with them. "Because I can't stay here, not while they want me to marry her."

"Why?" She cried, desperately seeking an answer. "What is the matter with Belle? She's pretty, beautiful even. She'd be able to keep up with you step for step. You've known each other since you were kids! She's perfect for you!"

"No she's not."

"Why?" She echoed her earlier plea. He stayed silent. "Remy, tell me why! If you told me, we could find a way around all of this. Ah need you to help me understand. Let me in, Remy. Tell me why." He didn't answer, only turned his back on her, which seemed to enrage her more than anything else.

"What the fuck is so wrong with Belle that you can't even _try_ to marry her?" Anna screamed as she walked closer to him, her hands shaking with her rage.

He heard her approach, felt her hands as she roughly yanked on his shoulders to turn him around to face her. And then he saw her face, so full of anger and something else that twisted her emotions, her actions. It only served to push him too far over the already dwindling edge he had on his control.

"Because she's not you," he whispered, his breath mingling with hers in the early morning light.

There was only a second for him to glimpse she startled reaction, the anger draining away from her features and to feel that twist in her emotions stand alone. To see her face open up and show her vulnerabilities in that one moment. And everything he saw just made him love her more.

Remy leaned forwards, caught the back of her neck and the next thing he knew, he was kissing her. Before long, she was returning his kiss, moving so she was pressed tighter against him. And when she opened her mouth, it felt like—tasted like heaven.

And when she stiffened he thought nothing of it. Neither did it concern him that he was steadily getting weaker. The spike in her emotions, fainter feeling than before, held no sway over him. It wasn't until she pushed herself away from him that he realized what happened: her control had slipped.

Among the already tumultuous emotions she had been feeling, what he just said kicked her into overdrive and her fragile control shattered. Worse, he had felt that control slip and thought nothing of it. But it had been worth it, more than worth it to see the look on her face and to know the taste of her.

His gaze met hers, and he saw anger flashing behind those emerald eyes. Yet he also saw a gleam of despair among them. He felt her try and wrestle that feisty emotion back into the twisted equilibrium she kept herself at.

"Remy! You're my brother!"

"You know we've never thought of each other as siblings." Remy tilted his head to the side, offering her a small, satisfied smirk. "Friends, best friend's maybe, but never siblings."

"This…this doesn't change anything." She tried to work herself from his arms. He wouldn't let her. This was most likely the last time he would be able to hold her for quite some time. He wanted to remember it, relish it.

"I'd say it changes a lot. Y' wanted to know; now y' do."

"Ah don't…they won't…it doesn't." Her thoughts came too fast for her mouth to process, and her breathing increased as a result. She braced herself on her knees, took a breath, exhaling to a count of ten and then tried to speak once more. "Ah don't want you to leave."

His smile was all but gone as he felt the violent rend in her emotions. She was twisting them back, and hurting herself all the more in the process. "I don't want to leave neither, _chére_. But I can't marry her knowing you're out there."

"Ah love you, Remy, but not—" Stranding upright once more, Anna slouched her shoulders. Her gaze was fixed on the scant ground between them.

"Shh." He placed a finger to her lips partly because he didn't want his hopes dashed, and partly because he knew she needed time. "It took me awhile to realize, you'll catch on eventually. And by the time I come back, you'll have realized."

Her head shot up, posture straightening immediately. "Come back?"

"Way I figure, it'll take a few years before everyone misses me and allows this whole thing to blow over. And when that happens, m' coming back f' you," he had been smirking, but it melted into a smile with the last of his words.

"An' if Ah came with you now?"

He fixed her with a hard stare from his devil's eyes. "Then I wouldn't likely come back."

She sucked in a breath. She knew of his sense of betrayal from his family, had felt it from their brief transfer. But she hadn't realized how deeply it had run. "Then Ah'll stay. If only so you'll have to make amends with everyone else first. Besides," she lowered her gaze, looking up through her lashes with a coy smile, "Ah need to practice my control."

Remy laughed, striding over to grip her in a fierce hug before settling another kiss upon her lips. "I'll be back f' you, Anna. Y' can count on that."

"Ah know." She whispered.

He gave her am award winning smirk before turning and walking back to his bike. He finished the kick he had started so long ago and the engine roared to life beneath him. He settled, fixing a hard gaze into her eyes before tearing away from the house he grew up in and the girl he loved.

And it felt like he was leaving part of himself behind as he did it.

But he knew that _when_ he came back, she would make him whole once more.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** I'm sorry? Part of the absence was my lack of a computer as I had crashed the hard drive the other part is because I've been extremely busy lately. Anyway, I'm really sorry for the long wait. On top of that, this isn't even the one I planned to do. But the other refuses to be finished. I swear, I've written about four different versions each with the same outcome. Madness, I tell you! Madness! And, I've got another one planned for this universe. I just haven't figured out how I want to twist that one yet. Decisions, decisions. Any suggestions, guys?

Handy reference guide for those of you playing along at home… Remy was 15, Belle was 14 and Anna was 13 in _Roadblocks I_. It's four years later now. Oh, I guess I'll do the others too; Henry was 18, Julien 18, Mercy 17, Lapin 17, and Theoren and Etienne are 13.


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